


Love Me Like You Mean It

by xXdreameaterXx



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: 1950s, 1960s, Alternate Universe - 1950s, Alternate Universe - 1960s, F/M, dinerAU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-03 09:14:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 52,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5285150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXdreameaterXx/pseuds/xXdreameaterXx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1959. Dr John Smith moves to Texas with one goal in mind: to start over and forget about his past. When he meets Clara Oswin Oswald, a waitress and an outcast with a whole lot of buried dreams he thinks that she might be just what he needs to give his life some meaning. Diner AU. Rated E for later chapters. Whouffaldi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't want to start writing this before the season finale but last night I have been attacked by plot bunnies and now they whole story is already finished in my head so I decided not to postpone it any longer. I hope you enjoy reading this one as much as you've enjoyed my other fics. You can find a soundtrack for this fic on my blog (I will tag it "diner au soundtrack" once I've uploaded it).

When John Smith left the bus in Parsons, Texas, one hand clutching the bag containing all the clothing he had brought with him, the other holding his guitar case, he knew that he would stay right here in this small town. He had left Scotland in a hurry, only taking what he really needed, so eager to get away from everything that he had once known because the pain and the defeat were too much for him to bear.  
A fresh start was what he needed. Not in Scotland, not in the United Kingdom, not on the European continent. Why exactly he had chosen America, or even this town, John Smith couldn't say. Something about it just felt exactly right and when he had passed the town sign he had gotten this tingling at the tips of his fingers, grabbed his bags and left the bus only to find himself in the middle of nowhere. 

As he walked along the dusty street he spotted a small diner and for the first time he realized that he felt thirsty, so John decided to go inside. They could probably also tell him where to find a place to sleep or maybe even where to find a job, even though he hadn't even made up his mind about how he was going to make a living from now on. The little bell on top of the diner door rang as he entered and the young waitress turned around and greeted him with a smile. Apparently he was the only customer.  
“Have a seat,” she told him in a friendly manner, “I'll be with you in a second.”  
John walked up to the counter and placed his bag and his guitar case next to one of the bar stools before he sat down. He watched as the waitress noticed the case before she pointed at it.  
“You're a guitar player?” she asked excitedly, that friendly smile still on her face. She was very pretty, beautiful even, with brown hair and dark brown eyes.  
“Just a hobby,” he replied, suddenly noticing how thick his Scottish accent must seem compared to the way she spoke.  
“Can I get you anything?”  
“Erm,” John considered it for a moment, “A cup of coffee.”  
“Anything to eat?” she looked at him hopefully, “Please, no one's come in here in over an hour and I'm really bored.”  
John chuckled. “Alright. Chicken sandwich and a plate of chips.”  
“Chips?” the waitress raised her eyebrows, “You mean _fries_ or actual American chips?”  
“I meant fries, sorry,” he apologized with a smile. Of course he had known that Americans call _chips fries_ and that what he knew as _crisps_ was called _chips_ over here but old habits indeed died hard.  
“No problem,” the young woman smiled and reached for a mug to pour him the coffee he had asked for. 

While he waited for his food an elderly couple entered the dinner and upon spotting the young waitress left again immediately although she had greeted them with the same friendly hello and a smile. He heard her groan in frustration.  
“I don't mean to pry,” John said matter-of-factly, “But that seemed kind of rude of them. Sworn enemies of yours?”  
“No,” the young woman huffed, “But you will find that people in this town are very narrow-minded and above all racist. And they never forget.”

She vanished in the back of the diner to emerge a few moments later with his food and John started eating, only now noticing how hungry he really was.  
“You're not from here,” the waitress said after a moment.  
“No,” John replied, swallowing a bite, “I'm from Glasgow. Needed a change of scenery. You don't happen to know a place where I could stay for a while? Until I've found something more permanent.”  
“I could give you some advice and tell you to leave. _I_ would if I could. This place doesn't seem to have changed in the last couple of decades,” she said angrily and he could tell that there was a reason for her resentment but he felt like asking about it would be overstepping some boundaries.  
Instead John shrugged. “I quite like it. It's got charm. American small town charm.”  
“Well, if you insist,” she said, “My landlord has a vacancy. The man who used to live on the floor above me moved out a few weeks ago. It's a small apartment but he rents weekly, so in case you decide to grab your bags and leave you won't lose a whole month's rent.”  
John gave her a smile. “That sounds good. Can you tell me where to find it?”  
“I can take you there if you've got half an hour to spare. My shift ends then and I can't wait to get home.”  
“That is very nice of you, -”  
“Clara,” she told him, “Clara Oswin Oswald.”  
“I'm Dr John Smith.”  
Clara's eyes widened. “A doctor? I wouldn't have guessed that.”

John felt his heart sink and took a long, deep breath.  
“I'm not a doctor anymore. I've lost the right to call myself by that title,” he admitted, the tone of his voice grave.  
“Why? What happened?” she asked curiously, a tiny frown showing on her forehead.  
He smiled sadly. “A doctor is someone who saves people and there was one person that I couldn't save and it was all my fault. She died and I'm to blame for that.”  
Clara laughed a little, nervous laugh that was probably meant to cheer him up. “Mistakes happen. To everyone. That's no reason to quit your entire career.”  
“For me it is,” he said and turned back to his plate where the sandwich still remained untouched.  
Clara obviously realized that he didn't want to talk about it any further and she left him to eat while she cleaned a couple of tables until the bell rang again and another, slightly older woman wearing the same, blue waitress uniform stepped inside.  
“Wow, the place looks busy today,” the woman said, her voice heavy with sarcasm, “If you want to you can call it a day.”  
Clara turned back to John who had just finished his sandwich. “Ready to go?”  
John reached inside the pocket of his jacket and retrieved some money which he left on the counter before he bent down to pick up his luggage.  
“Thanks, Carlene,” Clara said to the other waitress as she untied her apron and left it behind the counter. 

Together John and Clara left the diner and she led him through the town, past a car dealership with a garage, a small grocery store, the town square and an apothecary. John genuinely liked what he saw. Compared to Glasgow Parsons seemed so alien and yet so familiar and he decided that if he found a job he would most definitely stay. After all, he had only been here for an hour and he had already made a friend.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely first reviews :) I'm very happy that you already like the story. A little note before the next chapter. The guitar the Doctor is holding in the promo pictures for the season finale is an Epiphone SG Pro (probably a custom limited edition or a tinkered with guitar) but since Epiphone didn't even build these kinds of guitars before 1989 I couldn't use it for my fic. Even the Gibson SG, the model the Epiphone SG was based on wasn't built before the early 60s. I wanted my story to begin in the late 50s for reasons which will become apparent later in the story so I sat down and thought about what I was going to do with the guitar and decided to stay guitar-historically accurate and leave out the mention of the model. You can imagine John Smith owning an early Les Paul if you're into guitars ;)  
> Oh, and I've got work the next days so I'm not sure I'll be able to update before Sunday.

It was already dark when they arrived at the house but still John noticed how some people passing the two of them looked at Clara as if they were disgusted by her presence. He wondered why that was because she had been nothing but nice to him ever since his arrival. Clara unlocked the front door and led him inside.  
“The landlord lives here,” she said and knocked on the door that was right next to the entrance.  
John set down his heavy bags and straightened his jacket, brushing off a bit of dust that had gathered there on his way here. The landlord, a severely overweight man in his 60s, opened the door shortly after.  
“What is it?” he barked at Clara.  
Apart from the other waitress he seemed to be the first person who treated her normally even though he made a lousy first impression otherwise.  
“I found you a tenant for the upstairs apartment,” Clara said, her voice sounding tired or annoyed and John could tell that she hated the man.  
“Hello, I'm Dr John Smith,” John said, extending his hand but the landlord never shook it. Instead he only looked at him disdainfully.  
“A doctor?” the landlord huffed, “You'd think fancy folks like you could afford better than this. You got any money, Smith?”  
“Yes,” he replied.  
“Good. Give me the money and you'll get the key. I collect the rent on every Friday. If you're overdue that means I get interest. You lose the key you'll pay for a new one. No noise, no parties, no pets and no damage to the apartment or the furniture. Got it?”  
“Got it,” John replied.

The landlord vanished inside his apartment again to find the key, leaving him and Clara alone on the corridor.  
“Charming fellow,” he commented.  
Clara only shrugged. “Beggars can't be choosers. No one else wanted me. And at least he's cheap, so I'm not complaining.”  
John was about to open his mouth and ask why everyone was treating her the way they did when Clara spoke again.  
“Listen, my feet are killing me and I'm exhausted. I'm going inside. See you around?”  
He nodded quietly and smiled at her. “Thank you for your help.”  
“No problem,” she said and turned on her heels to walk up the stairs. He heard as Clara opened another door before her steps vanished inside one of the apartments. 

The unfriendly landlord came back a few moments later and they exchanged cash and keys before he told John to follow him upstairs.  
“Don't you need my signature or anything?” he asked suspiciously.  
“Listen,” the landlord turned around mid-stairs, “I'm giving you a cheap place to live. I don't ask questions. I don't even _want_ to know anything about you. I don't care about your name, your past, your skin colour, your job – money is money. As long as you don't cause me trouble you can stay. If you do you'll find your ass on the street. Understood?”  
John swallowed and nodded before he continued to follow the man to his new apartment.  
“There it is. Have a nice stay,” the landlord said grumpily, “If anything breaks don't ask me to fix it.”  
John stepped inside the flat and the first thing he noticed was a strange smell. He stepped across the living room to open the windows and realized that the carpet had probably seen better days. The entire place was small and shabby, with one bigger room serving as living room, bedroom and dining room in one, a smaller kitchen and an even smaller bathroom. Yet John decided that it would do for now and after a good cleaning it could maybe even become cosy. He could still find a better place to live later when he was making money again and he decided that he would go out and try to find a new job the very next day. The only person John felt slightly sorry for was the sweet waitress. There was obviously a reason she couldn't find lodging anywhere else and she depended on people like their unfriendly landlord.

With a sigh John sat down on the bed and started opening his bag. Carefully wrapped between his clothes he found his amplifier which he plugged into the nearest socket. He turned down the volume so as not to get kicked out for making noise on his first day before he unpacked his guitar as well and started playing. 

 

* * *

 

Clara had changed into more comfortable clothes and forced herself to eat a small sandwich before she settled on her bed, determined to fall asleep as quickly as possible. Some days were better than others but today had not been one of them. She pulled the necklace out from under her shirt and admired the ring dangling at the end of it. It often gave her comfort but today it only managed to make her feel lonelier. Today it only reminded her of how alone she truly was. It was her birthday and no one even knew. Of course, she could have asked Carlene to go out with her after her shift ended. Carlene would have never said no because she felt sorry for Clara and pity was the last thing she wanted.  
Twenty-nine. She should have been married with kids by now, she should have finished her education instead of still working in a diner for a minimum wage but Clara had come to realize that she would never have any of those things. No husband. No children. Not the career she had wanted and as long as she lived here she wouldn't have friends either. 

Suddenly Clara thought she heard music coming from upstairs and she remembered that John Smith had arrived here with a guitar case. The volume was too low for her to recognize the song but it sparked her curiosity.  
Clara got out of bed again and exchanged her pyjama bottoms for a skirt. She grabbed two bottles of beer from the fridge and headed upstairs, deciding that spending the evening with a friendly stranger was still better than spending her birthday completely alone. The music stopped when she knocked on his door and a few moments later John Smith opened the door.  
“I'm sorry. Was I too loud?” he asked immediately, a look of worry on his face.  
“No, not at all,” Clara said and held up the beer she had brought, “Can I come in?”  
“Sure,” John held the door open for her and closed it as soon as she had stepped inside.  
Clara looked around and the place looked exactly like her own apartment, just not quite as clean but John was hardly to blame for that.  
“Come to see my impressive new apartment?” John asked her jokingly.  
Clara looked up at him, a shy smile on her face. “Actually, it's my birthday today and I don't want to spend it on my own. As you might have noticed I don't have a lot of friends around here.”  
“Your birthday?” John's eyes widened, “Don't you want to go out and celebrate?”  
“No,” Clara shook her head, “I'm not keen on people's looks right now. But a bit of company would be nice.”  
“Okay,” John nodded, “Why don't you sit down?”

She sat down on the bed or couch or whatever it was and admired the guitar propped up against the wall. It looked elegant and expensive and Clara wondered if he would play something for her if she asked him.  
A few moments later John came back from the kitchen with a bottle opener with which he cracked the beer open before he handed one of the bottles back to Clara and sat down next to her.  
“Why _do_ people stare at you like that?” he asked suddenly before he took a sip.  
“I don't want to talk about it,” she replied immediately, “Not today. Not right now.”  
“Okay,” he nodded understandingly.  
“It's nothing bad, “ Clara reassured him, “At least it shouldn't be. For the people in this town however it is.”  
“It's alright. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. Everyone's entitled to their secrets.”  
“It's hardly a secret if everyone knows,” Clara gave him a weak smile before her eyes wandered to the guitar again, “Would you play me something?”  
“Sure,” he replied and set his beer down on the coffee table before he reached for his guitar, “What would you like to hear?”  
Clara shrugged. “I don't know. Whatever you like.”  
John adjusted the guitar in his lap and after a moment be began playing _“Happy Birthday”_ for her. She watched in admiration as his hands flew over the strings and clapped when he had finished.  
“Thank you,” she said gratefully, “That's the nicest thing someone has done for me in a very long time.”  
Clara enjoyed being around him. Some moments she thought there was something about John Smith that felt familiar but she knew that it was only due to the fact that he was nice to her and she had missed that. She had missed being treated like a normal person more than she let on. Clara's friendliness and her indifference to the way people looked at her and treated her was nothing but a mask. Behind it she was lost and lonely and sad and in desperate need of a friend.


	3. Chapter 3

John shaved the early stages of the beard that was beginning to show on his chin and put on a clean, grey suit before he left his apartment, determined to find a job, any job. He also realized that he needed to do some grocery shopping today but for now breakfast at the diner would have to do again. Maybe Clara would be there, too.  
His thoughts had circled around the young woman all night and John wished there was something he could do for her. She had seemed so lost and so lonely last night and he wished she would just tell him how exactly she had become an outcast in this town. John was sure that she didn't deserve it.  
When he had walked down the first flight of stairs he saw Clara who was just about to lock her apartment door.  
“Good morning,” he greeted her with a smile, “Off to work?”  
Clara pointed at the uniform she was wearing but smiled back at him.  
“Okay, stupid question, I admit,” John said, “We can walk to the diner together. I was just about to grab some breakfast.”  
“Are you sure you want to be seen in public with me? They might start looking at you, too,” Clara remarked as they left the building together.  
John only shrugged. “They look at me already. I'm new here.”  
“Good point.”  
“I don't care about the rest. Seriously, I don't,” he tried to reassure her.

They walked in silence for a moment and John had a chance to look at the town in daylight. It looked like it had been taken out of a Western movie, only slightly more modern.  
“So, what are your plans for today?” Clara asked after a while.  
John took a deep breath. “I'm gonna try to find a job. I don't really care as what, I'm pretty versatile.”  
“You should ask Lonny. He owns the car shop and he mentioned he was looking for someone a few weeks ago. I don't think he's found anyone yet. Are you good with cars?”  
John thought about it for a moment. He loved tinkering with all sorts of things. He knew enough about engines. It could work.  
“I think so, yes. Thanks, I'll ask Lonny then.”

After breakfast he left the diner and headed towards the car shop Clara had talked about and once he had stepped inside he quickly spotted Lonny, another man in his late 60s and John was starting to get the impression that Clara was the only young person in this town.  
“Good morning!” Lonny greeted him with the smile of a businessman, “How can I help you, sir?”  
“Uhm,” John spluttered, “I've been told you are hiring. I'm looking for work.”  
The smile on the man's face didn't fade but changed into something else. “Yes, I am indeed. Why don't you step inside my office?”  
John followed the man to a small room at the back of the area used to present cars and took a seat at the crammed desk.  
“I want to retire in a year or two,” Lonny announced after they had exchanged names, “I am looking for a man who is good with cars but who can also manage the business. What have you done so far? Ever worked with cars?”  
“Not professionally,” John admitted, “I used to be a doctor but steady hands are useful when you work with cars as well. I know how to fix things. If you give me a chance I'm sure I can prove myself to you.”  
Lonny sighed. “What about the business? Can you manage that? Can you control the lazy bastards working in the back?”  
John granted him a smile. “I'm sure before you retire you can teach me all about that.”  
“Well, you've certainly got the authority,” Lonny paused, “And it's not like anyone else has applied for the job so far. I'll give you a chance. We'll see if it works out.”  
“Thank you,” he said earnestly, “When do I start?”  
“Does tomorrow at 8 sound good?”  
“Sounds perfect.”

After leaving the car shop John took his time for a stroll around the town. Most buildings were residential houses, but there were also a lot of shops. A bakery, a convenience store, a florist, a shoemaker and two clothing shops that seemed to include a tailor. He also spotted a small church not far from the town square.  
When his expedition of the town had come to an end John stepped inside the convenience store to stock up on groceries. After all, he would be staying here for a long while.

 

* * *

 

Clara heard a knock on the door and quickly checked her calendar. It wasn't Friday, so it would probably not be her landlord demanding the rent and Clara got an inkling that it might be John standing in front of her door. When she opened it she realized that she had been right.  
John smiled at her and produced a small cake with a tiny candle on top of it from behind his back.  
“Happy belated birthday,” he said.  
A smile spread on her face as she saw the surprise. She couldn't believe he had actually gone out and bought her cake.  
“You should have gotten one yesterday but I couldn't have known that, so,” he held the cake further up, “Let's pretend it's still your birthday and do it properly.”  
“I don't know what to say,” Clara beamed at him, “Thank you.”  
“Go on. Make a wish,” John told her. 

Clara took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She had so many wishes that it seemed too much for a single candle, so the only thing she wished for was happiness. She blew out the candle.  
“Why don't you come inside?” Clara suggested, “I'll get us plates for the cake.”  
A few moments later they found themselves sitting at the small dining table next to her bed, eating the cake and drinking tea that Clara thought must seem cheap to John. After all, people from England and Scotland were famous for their tea drinking and her tea only came from tea bags but he never complained. Clara congratulated John when he told her about his job and they talked about the town and the people, throwing in an occasional joke.  
“I've been thinking about something,” John said after a moment and he suddenly seemed a little shy, staring at his plate the entire time, “If you want to I'd like to be your friend.”  
“You brought me cake. As far as I'm concerned you're a friend already,” Clara giggled.  
“I don't care what you have done,” he replied earnestly, “I don't care about why they treat you like an outcast. I only know that you don't deserve that. You're a nice, young woman and you shouldn't have to feel lonely.”  
Clara cleared her throat. Maybe she should tell him, at least a part of the story. There was still time for the rest of it later. She had the feeling that John would be the last person to judge her for that.  
“I used to date a black man,” she admitted after a moment.  
“What?” John looked at her, obviously failing to see why she told him that.  
“I had a boyfriend a few years back and he was a man of colour.”  
“Wait,” John still seemed confused, “That is why they avoid you? Cause you dated a black man?”  
Clara didn't know what to do except shrug. “I told you the town was narrow-minded.”  
“That's not only narrow-minded, that's _ridiculous_.”  
“As soon as I have saved up enough money I will move, I'll find a place where no one knows me and it'll all be over but for now I just have to live with it. And a part of me wants to stay here just to spite them, to show them I'm not bothered.”  
“Well, the good news is that you're no longer alone,” John said, smiling at her.  
Clara smiled back. “Yes. And that is a huge relief,” she said and for a moment she didn't think and placed her hand on top of his, squeezing it a little. Luckily John didn't seem at all confused by her gesture and let it pass. Clara was grateful. John Smith couldn't have come to this town at a better time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the nice comments :)


	4. Chapter 4

When John entered the diner he could already spot Clara behind the counter, busy at the coffee maker. It seemed as if half the town had gathered here for lunch today.  
“Hey there,” he greeted her with a wink.  
Clara smiled and pushed a cup of a coffee in his direction. “Sorry, I’m a bit busy here right now. Are we still on for tonight?”  
“Erm, about that,” John began but stopped when he saw the disappointment appear on Clara’s face, “I actually have a different proposition. Instead of you just listening to me play the guitar we could,” he hesitated, “Go out?”  
Clara opened her mouth to speak but John didn’t let her. He didn’t want her to say no immediately and he knew that she was going to do just that.  
“The guys from the garage asked me if I wanted to join them for billiards at the bar. They said I could bring someone and I thought you might want to.”  
A frown appeared on Clara's face but she quickly hid it behind a smile. “Oh, no, that's okay. You should go. Get to know your colleagues. We can see each other another time.”  
John knew exactly why she didn't want to accompany him. Clara wanted to avoid going out because of the way people looked at her and he wouldn't allow that as an excuse.  
“The guys I work with seem really nice, Clara. I doubt they would treat you disrespectfully,” he said sincerely, “Please, just give it a try. If you don't like it you can leave but at least try. A young woman like you shouldn't be sitting at home all the time.”  
For a moment Clara seemed to consider it.  
“Please?” John asked again.  
She rolled her eyes. “Alright. I'll go with you. You won't give up before I agree anyway.”  
“Absolutely right. I'll pick you up at 7?”  
Clara shrugged. “As good a time as any.”  
“Great,” he beamed at her, “Now, can I get a sandwich to go before I have to get back to work?”  
She nodded and left him standing next to the counter to vanish into the back of the diner. John felt a little proud of himself. He wanted to help Clara regain a normal life more than anything and he was sure that that was the right way to do it.

 

* * *

 

Clara felt utterly nervous. In the past few years she had gone out only on very few occasions and she had always chosen to go to the next town to do so. Clara hadn't set foot in the bar John would be taking her to in years and she had no idea how the evening would go down. Maybe he was right. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. But what if it would be?  
Clara turned the ring on her necklace around between her fingers and eventually hid it under her clothes like she always did. A glance into the mirror showed a pretty, young woman wearing a nice dress. She hadn't had the chance to wear any of her dresses in a long time and it felt good but it also felt slightly wrong. A part of her was still convinced that she shouldn't be allowed to have fun anymore. Clara had had her fun, a lot of it, and she had also paid for it. 

A knock on the door roused her from her doubts and Clara took a deep breath. Straightening her skirt she walked towards the door and opened it.  
John stood on the corridor and smiled when he saw her.  
“Are you sure you want me to come with you? My bad reputation might rub off,” Clara said shyly.  
“I don't care,” John replied as he extended his arm to her, “I might cause you to get a new, bad reputation though.”  
Clara took his arm and closed the door behind her. “How so?”  
“People might think you moved on from _the black man_ to _the old man_.”  
She chuckled. “I don't care,” Clara repeated his words with a smile. 

The bar wasn't too crowded. It was, after all, a Thursday night and people would have to get up early for work the next day and when the two of them entered hardly anyone seemed to take any notice of them. Except for John's colleagues. Clara recognized one of them as a regular from the diner and she knew that his name was Raymond. The other one she had seen when she had brought her motorcycle in for repairs and she believed that he was called Thomas.  
“John,” Raymond said with a laugh, “When I said you could bring someone that didn't include girlfriends and wives.”  
“Ray,” John said calmly, “Clara is just a friend and it was either bringing her or blowing you off. We already had plans for tonight.”  
“You work at the diner, right?” Raymond asked her.  
“Yes, that's right,” Clara replied nervously.  
Raymond smiled and pointed at her. “Out of all the waitresses _you_ make the best sandwiches. Do you know how to play billiards?”  
Clara glanced at John and then back the other two men. “Actually, no. I've never played.”  
“That's okay,” John reassured her, “I'll show you.”

While John went to get the cues Raymond and Thomas explained the rules of the game to her and they looked quite happy that Clara would be teaming up with John to play against the two of them. Clara guessed they already saw themselves winning. She also noticed that they seemed to treat her normally like they would any other woman. Either they didn't know of her past, which seemed highly unlikely given the speed at which gossip travelled in this small town, or they already respected John enough to extend that respect to her.  
When John returned with the cues Thomas had already set up the billiard balls and they all agreed that it should be up to Clara to move first. She took the cue from John and set it down on the table.  
“No,” he laughed, “That's not how you hold it.”  
A moment later John was standing behind her, so close that her back touched his chest and he helped her adjust her grip on the cue. Clara hadn't been this close to another person in a long time and all of a sudden she realized how much she had missed it, how much she truly wanted someone to hold her hand or to embrace her. In her loneliness she had forgotten what it felt like.  
John gave the white ball a good push with the cue, tearing Clara out of her daydream and one ball already found its way into one of the holes.  
“Not bad for your first shot,” he said as he stepped away from her.  
“That wasn't _me_ ,” Clara said, looking at him, “That was _you_.”  
“You'll get the hang of it,” John promised and looked over to Raymond and Thomas who were busy deciding which one of them would go next.  
Apparently he realized that they weren't at all paying attention to them so he leaned closer so Clara.  
“See, it's not that bad here at all,” John whispered.  
“Yes,” Clara admitted, “You were right.”

 

Clara and John, as it turned out, weren't that bad of a team after all and once Clara had figured out how exactly to work the cue she had really started to enjoy herself and even caused them to win some rounds.  
“Thank you,” she said sincerely as they made their way back to their apartments, “You were absolutely right. It wasn't bad. Quite the contrary. I've had a great time.”  
“We should do this more often,” John suggested. Both of them stopped in front of her door.  
“Yeah,” Clara replied with a smile.  
“You deserve it,” his expression suddenly seemed a lot more serious and Clara thought for a moment that he had been reading her thoughts. She had been thinking that she wasn't allowed to be happy, she had even felt guilty about it before going out, “You deserve to have fun, you deserve to do what you want – no matter what they think or what they say.”  
The smile slowly faded from her lips. He was right, as always, and Clara was so grateful that he had stepped into her life. In just two weeks he had made a difference to her entire world. To her it seemed as if he was saving her from her loneliness without even knowing it.  
Without thinking she flung her arms around his neck and hugged him as tightly as she could and after a moment of hesitation Clara could feel his arms around her back as well, even though his touch was gentle, hardly there at all. Oh, how she had missed hugging someone.  
“Thank you,” she whispered.  
When they parted Clara realized that John was smiling.  
“Good night, Clara Oswin Oswald,” he said gently.  
“Good night, John Smith,” she replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments :)))


	5. Chapter 5

Clara was desperate to end her shift. Everyone around her had already gone crazy about the upcoming holidays even though they were still a couple of days away, everyone except her. She hated Christmas and right now she wanted to punch every single person who even looked remotely cheerful. However her face lit up when she saw John enter the diner. He greeted her happily and took his usual spot at the counter.  
“So, what are you doing on Christmas? It seems like that's all people talk about today.”  
Clara groaned in reply. “Please, not you, too.”  
“What? Not yet in a holiday spirit?” John laughed.  
“I have to visit my family,” she explained, “This is my last shift. I'm driving over to Albany right after work and I'll be staying there until the 26th.”  
John raised an eyebrow at her. “That sounds like you don't like your family.”  
She sighed. It wasn't exactly true but he also wasn't completely wrong.  
“Dad is very quiet. You never really know what's going on in his head but he's not the problem. My stepmother is. He remarried only a year after my mother died and. . .,” she paused.  
“And you haven't forgiven him?”  
“It's not that. I understand that he was lonely but-”  
“But you haven't forgiven him,” John insisted.  
“No, I haven't. And she is a dragon. So it's going to be a really long week.”  
Clara filled a cup of coffee and handed it to John. He began sipping it carefully.  
“If it's any consolation I'm not really in a holiday mood either. It's just too warm here. In Scotland we'd probably have snow already,” John said casually and set his mug down.  
“Here we have rain for Christmas, lots and lots of rain. I'm going to have to hurry after work so I reach the city before the storm hits tonight. We probably won't be seeing each other before I get back.”  
“Are you sure you don't want to take the bus? Just to be safe?” he asked.  
“No,” Clara said with sigh, “The ride is the only thing I'm really looking forward to.”  
John took another sip from his coffee. “Alright. But do you have plans for New Year's Eve yet? I've heard there's a party at the town hall.”  
“Oh, yes, the dance. They do that every year,” she explained to him.  
“Clara,” John chuckled, “I was asking if you wanted to go.”  
She considered it for a moment. The last time they had gone out hadn't been too bad and she had actually ended up having fun but that had been with his colleagues. Clara was certain that a great part of the town's population would be gathering at the town hall for New Year's Eve. And there was something else bothering her about the question although she couldn't quite put her finger on it.  
“I'll think about it, okay?”  
John nodded. “As long as you don't overthink it.”  
Clara smiled at him. “I won't.”

 

* * *

 

John was just about to put away his tools and call it a day, especially after Thomas had declared that they had already been working overtime when he glanced outside and saw that it was pouring, not raining. It was as if someone was emptying buckets over the town.  
“Maybe we should wait until it stops,” John suggested.  
“Oh no,” Raymond replied, “That looks like it's going to rain all night. I'll be heading home now.”  
Again John looked out of the window, hoping that Clara had made it to the city before this downpour when he suddenly saw a small figure approaching the garage. As she came closer John realized that it was Clara and she was pushing her motorcycle in the direction of the garage.  
Instantly he turned to the door, opened it and rushed out to her. She was soaked to the bones.  
“Here, let me help you,” John said quickly and grabbed the handlebars of the bike, pushing it inside the garage with Clara following on his heels.  
“I broke down,” Clara said desperately, “The engine just stopped. I don't know what's wrong.”  
John turned around to look at her. Clara was dripping wet and shaking all over. He grabbed his jacket from the clothing rack on the wall and covered her shoulders with it. She thankfully accepted.  
“We'll have a look at it tomorrow. Right now you have to get out of these clothes.”  
“But my dad,” Clara said, “I need to let him know that I can't make it today. He'll be worried.”  
“Does he have a phone?”  
Clara shook her head. “His neighbour does. I have the number.”  
“Okay. Let's go into the office and call them,” John suggested and led her out of the garage into the main building. 

He waited patiently for Clara to finish her phone call where she explained that her motorcycle had broken down on the way and that she would catch a bus to see her family the next day. John noticed that she was shaking all over. He had no idea how long she had been out in the rain but he guessed that it had been quite a while.  
“What?” she asked into the phone and after a long pause she continued, “Oh, erm, tell her to get well soon. I'll be fine, don't worry. Bye, dad.”  
Then she hung up.  
“Is everything okay?” John asked.  
A smile spread on Clara's face but she quickly hid it. “It was my dad. He was just at the neighbours' house and, well, his wife fell off a ladder yesterday when she was putting up Christmas ornaments. She broke a leg. Dad said I should just visit them next year when she is better.”  
John could tell she was not exactly unhappy about that. “You don't seem sad.”  
Clara shrugged. “I know you shouldn't wish bad things on people but, no, I'm not sad. I've been dreading this Christmas for weeks. Now I can just pretend Christmas isn't happening at all.”  
She shuddered for a moment and it reminded John that she was probably still freezing despite his jacket.  
“Come on,” he said, “Let's get you home.”  
He offered her his arm again and she took it. Her hand felt ice cold.  
“How long have you been out in the rain?” John asked her, “You should take a hot bath when you get home. Don't want you to catch a cold.”  
“An hour, I think,” Clara replied, “And yes, I will, even if it's just so I can feel my toes again.”  
“And about Christmas,” he began as they headed for the exit, “If you want we could celebrate it together.”  
“Don't you have family back in Scotland?” Clara asked, looking up at him.  
John shook his head. “No. Not anymore. Lost them all in the war.”  
“I'm sorry,” she said sincerely. 

When they had reached the door that led to the outside John grabbed Clara's bag that she had strapped to her motorcycle. It was dripping wet, like the rest of her. He looked out of the door.  
“Okay, two possibilities. We walk home and get soaked or we run home and get soaked,” he said.  
“Do you want your jacket back?” she asked him and was about to take it off.  
“That jacket won't last a minute under this rain. You can keep it.”  
“Alright. I say we run. Ready?”  
John smiled at her. “Ready.”  
He grabbed her hand and together they darted outside into the pouring rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your lovely comments :) They always make my day!


	6. Chapter 6

John knocked on the door to Clara's apartment. When nothing happened for a long time he knocked again and finally he could hear her voice from the inside.  
“I'm coming,” she said loudly.  
A few moments later she opened the door, still – or already – dressed in her nightgown, her hair tied into a messy bun and she looked absolutely miserably.  
“Hey,” she croaked and quickly cleared her throat. She was obviously sick.  
“Oh no,” John uttered, “You caught a cold after all.”  
Clara only shrugged. “Well, I'll survive. I think it's punishment for being happy about my stepmother's broken leg.”  
She held the door further open and John stepped inside.  
“Instant karma,” John replied. 

Clara walked up to her bed and let herself fall down on it, gesturing for John to sit down next to her.  
“Did you have a chance to look at my bike yet?” she asked sheepishly, raising her eyebrows.  
“I did,” he replied as he sat down, “I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”  
Clara bit her lip. “The bad ones? I think?”  
John took a deep breath. “The engine is a goner. There is absolutely nothing we can do about that. It's old. It's dead.”  
“Oh no,” Clara uttered desperately, “I can't afford a new motorcycle. Not now. Not in the next, I don't know, five years.”  
“That is where the good news come in,” John told her calmly, “I found a new engine. Well, not new. It's a used one with a couple of flaws, but fixable. I phoned a few junk yards and found a motorcycle just like yours in Midland. Same year, same model. They will bring the whole thing over between the holidays when they pass our town on their way for a delivery. We can keep the rest in case you need any more spare parts.”  
Clara raised her eyebrows even further, not looking the least bit relieved. “It's gonna cost me an arm and a leg, isn't it?”  
John smiled at her. “It's not gonna cost you anything. I was _very_ friendly to the woman on the phone. I think she was about to leave her husband for me without ever having seen me before but the important thing is that we'll get the motorcycle completely for free and-”  
John was interrupted as Clara flung her arms around his neck.  
“You are the best!” she exclaimed happily, “I don't know how to thank you. You are amazing.”  
“You can start by not passing on your cold,” John chuckled and Clara slowly released him from the hug, “Speaking of which. Is there anything I can do for you? Do you want tea? Or soup? Do you need something from the drug store?”  
“I think you've already done more than enough for me,” Clara said, followed by a sneeze.  
“No,” John insisted, “At least let me make you soup. Do you have stock cubes?”  
“What are those?” Clara asked after she had blown her nose in a handkerchief and she was obviously confused.  
“Uhm, to make soup? Don't tell me you don't know that.”  
“Ohhh,” her face lit up in realisation, “You mean _bouillon cubes_. Are you sure we're speaking the same language?”  
John laughed at her question. “Right now I am not. But the important question is: do you have some?”  
“Yes, there are some in the kitchen cupboard. But you don't have to make me soup.”  
He shrugged. “Who says I'm making it for you? I'm also hungry. My favourite waitress wasn't at work today to make me dinner. You stay right here and wait,” he ordered her.

Clara looked at him sternly and grumbled something in a weak attempt to protest but John ignored her and headed off into the kitchen. He found the stock cubes easily as well as some noodles and the pots. Not really knowing what he was doing he just threw some of the noodles into the broth and let them simmer for 10 minutes.  
He returned to Clara with two large, steaming mugs.  
“Here we go,” he said, handing one of the cups to her, “Improvised noddle soup. Careful, it's hot.”  
“Thank you,” she replied, accepting the mug and blowing on the soup to cool it, “Smells good. But you don't have to take care of me.”  
“But I want to,” John replied earnestly.  
Clara turned around to look at him and for a moment John felt like she was attempting to read his thoughts. “Why?”  
“Because you deserve it,” he paused, taking a deep breath, “Because I arrived here with no idea what to do with my life and you were there and you were friendly to me, you helped me out, a complete stranger, even though the whole town has been anything but nice to you. I want to take care of you because to me it seems you are having a hard time accepting even the smallest gesture of kindness and that is wrong.”  
Clara fell silent for a long time and took the first spoonful of soup. When she had swallowed Clara spoke again.  
“When you asked me to the New Year's Eve dance, you asked me as a friend, right?” she asked, her voice suddenly shy.  
“Yes, of course. Why?”  
Clara smiled. “Then I want to go,” she replied.  
John nodded and turned his attention back to the soup in his hands. 

 

* * *

 

The next day Clara was feeling a little bit better already. She was still coughing and sneezing and constantly blowing her nose but she wasn't as tired as she had been the day before and so she decided to sit up and read the book by some Russian sounding author Clara hadn't heard of before that Carlene had given her a few weeks ago with a mischievous smirk. Only a couple of pages into the book Clara soon realized what exactly the mischievous smirk had been for. She was about to read a novel that seemed to be of an erotic nature.  
However her reading was interrupted by a knock on the door and, knowing that it would be John, Clara quickly hid _Lolita_ under her pillow. She wasn't really keen on being caught reading filth.  
She tightened her morning robe around her waist and went to open the door, only to be greeted by the sight of a tree.  
“Ho, ho, ho,” came John's voice from behind the forest of twigs.  
“John,” Clara blurted out with a laugh, “What is this?”  
His head popped up next to the tree and he was beaming at her. “I thought, since you can't spend Christmas with your family, you should at least get a tree in your apartment.”  
“But I don't even have ornaments. Or a stand to put it in.”  
John bent down and a few moments later he handed her a tree stand and a box in which Clara strongly suspected she would find the ornaments to decorate it with.  
“But-”  
“No buts,” John said strictly, “What have I told you about accepting gestures of kindness?”  
Clara rolled her eyes but soon began to laugh. “You are crazy. Thank you, John, but you are crazy.”  
She pushed the door open and stepped aside so John could carry the tree into the living room where they soon found a nice spot for it. Clara set down the stand and five minutes later it was holding the tree perfectly. Glancing at him Clara realized that John looked perfectly happy with his achievement.  
“Thank you,” Clara said again, smiling gratefully at him, “This is a wonderful surprise.”  
“What's a Christmas meal without a Christmas tree?” he asked, “Oh, and about that – what would you like me to cook?”  
Clara immediately put her arms akimbo. “Nothing at all. _I_ will make the food and I will not allow you to lift a single finger. You talk about accepting kindness, now _you_ can accept some.”  
John shrugged with a smile. “Alright. That's fine by me.”  
“The day after tomorrow,” Clara said determinedly, “At noon. And wear something nice. If we're gonna do Christmas together, we'll do it properly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments!!! I love you all!!


	7. Chapter 7

The day before Christmas Day Clara went out of her way to clean the entire apartment and she didn't stop before she had gotten rid of the last dusty corner. It wasn't her first Christmas at this place but the first one she would truly be celebrating. The radio was playing some festive swing song as she started placing the ornaments around the tree, the smell of it already filling up the room. Clara breathed it in deeply. Ever since the death of her mother Christmas had ceased to be something magical but this year Clara felt some of the magic return, this year she'd be spending it with someone who actually seemed to care about her.  
She put on her coat and scarf and made her way towards the grocery store. Since John had been so nice to her, arranging to have her motorcycle repaired for free, making her soup, getting her a Christmas tree and all the other small gestures, she had decided that she would make him the best Christmas dinner he had ever eaten. Clara felt as if it was the least she could do to repay him and she was a good cook. It seemed like a safe bet to do him a favour. 

When she entered the shop she realized that of course all the big turkeys were already gone but Clara didn't mind too much. They were only two people and a small one would still do. Going through her shopping list she placed everything she thought she needed in her cart. For dessert Clara had planned on baking shortbread cookies, the only Scottish recipe she could find that she thought sounded edible. While she had done her research Clara had stumbled across something called _Haggis_ and she had made a mental note to ask John whether people actually ate that where he was from.  
After double checking her list with the contents of her shopping cart Clara headed towards the checkout and to her dismay she realized that Russell Petterson was sitting behind it. Clara loathed that man but she gritted her teeth and headed towards him. Without greeting her Petterson started typing the prices into the register.  
“That's an awful lot of food for such a tiny woman,” the old man said with a sneer, “Comfort eating?”  
Clara cleared her throat and forced a smile. “I'm not eating alone,” she replied coldly.  
Petterson raised an eyebrow. “Hear, hear. Did someone take pity on you?”  
Russell Petterson had been one of the first to cry out when she had started going on with Daniel and he seemed to hold an unreasonable grudge against black people in general and everyone who had ever so much as spoken to someone of a different skin colour. Clara hated him and people like him with all her heart.  
She was about to say something in return when the old man started laughing.  
“It's a man, isn't it? Does he know you're into nigger? Does he know who's been down there before?” Petterson seemed greatly amused by his own insults as he was beginning to choke on his own laughter and soon he started coughing.  
“You know what,” Clara said angrily, dropping the item she had been about to hand him back into the cart. People like Petterson and their comments made her furious, “Keep your food!”  
Clara looked around the store and spotted the old Mrs Danes in the vegetable section.  
“Mrs Danes,” Clara called out for her, “I wouldn't buy those potatoes if I were you. Some of mine had maggots in them.”  
Pleased with herself Clara noticed that the old woman put the potatoes back but soon her view was blocked by a very angry looking Russell Petterson.  
“Are you crazy?! Will you stop badmouthing our products in front of the customers?!” he demanded angrily, his face growing red with fury.  
“Why?” Clara shrugged, swallowing her anger, “You don't seem to have a problem badmouthing people.”  
She turned to leave when suddenly she got another idea. She stopped pushing the shopping cart and turned back towards Petterson. “You know what? I don't really feel like putting all those things back. You do that.”

Clara stormed out of the shop before Petterson could catch his breath. This was exactly why she hated the town and almost everyone who lived in it. They were racist, they were judgemental and above all they never forgot. She was fighting back tears as she made her way towards the bus stop to do her Christmas shopping in the next town. She wasn't crying because she was still sad, no, she had buried her sadness along with her hopes and dreams – she was crying because she was angry and because she was still blaming the people of this town for everything that had happened. 

“Clara?!”  
A familiar voice called her and Clara turned around to see John standing in front of the garage, holding a steaming cup. He was obviously on his break. Quickly she wiped the tears from her face.  
“Clara, are you okay?” he asked her.  
She took a deep breath and headed towards him, noticing that he already sat down his coffee mug on the ground so she wouldn't have to ask him to do it before she threw her arms around him in a tight hug. Without hesitation he closed his arms around her.  
“Did something happen?” John asked again, his voice full of concern.  
“Only the usual,” Clara muttered angrily against the fabric of his jacket, “I hate this town. I hate this town and everyone in it.”  
She felt his hand softly caress the back of her head and it felt so nice to actually have someone who had her back, someone who didn't judge her.  
“Not _everyone_ , I hope?”  
“Everyone except you,” Clara corrected herself and after a pause explained to him what had happened in the grocery store.  
John listened carefully and then released her from the embrace to look at her. He smiled and gently lifted her chin with his thumb an index finger.  
“Don't let them get to you, Clara,” he said and suddenly started to laugh, “And nice move telling the old woman about maggots. That only shows that you are a strong woman and don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. What they think about you doesn't matter.”  
His laugh was somehow contagious and soon Clara found herself laughing as well. “I can't ever shop there again. At least not when Petterson is behind the register.”  
John nodded in approval. “Not in the next few weeks.”  
Clara sighed. “I have to go now. Have to do my shopping in the next town. Man, I should have just swallowed it.”  
“No,” John said strictly, “You did the right thing. Petterson was rude and the next time I see him I'll punch him,” he hesitated, “You just have to tell me what he looks like so I don't accidentally hit the wrong guy. And you should just let me do the shopping. I'll punch him after I've paid.”  
Clara laughed. “There will be no punching and I said I don't want you to lift a single finger for this Christmas dinner. Besides, the turkeys here looked really small. I'll just take the bus.”  
“Alright. And I should probably go back inside and do some actual work,” John said, “See you tomorrow?”  
Clara nodded and waved him goodbye as she continued her way to the bus stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your sweet comments :) And yes, don't we all want to spend Christmas with John? ;)


	8. Chapter 8

Clara had gotten up early on Christmas day, noticing to her relief that the symptoms of her cold had almost vanished completely. She had already made the shortbread fingers on the previous evening, so all she really needed to do was to prepare the turkey and eggnog before John arrived at lunch time. However she hadn't calculated that John would be early. Just as she had put the turkey into the oven there was a knock on her door.  
Clara straightened the skirt of her dress and went to open it. John held up his guitar and amplifier and smiled broadly at her.  
“I brought some music,” he announced happily.  
“You're also early,” Clara said, trying to sound cross when she actually wasn't. She would have just spent the remainder of the morning reading the book her colleague had given her.  
“I thought you might need some help,” John said as he stepped inside her apartment and set the guitar down next to the coffee table.  
“The food is all done but you can help me set the table,” Clara suggested and John nodded, following her into the kitchen.

“Smells good,” he commented as she handed him two plates but then his gaze dropped to the already laid out cookies, “You made shortbread?”  
His face lit up and Clara smiled, pleased with herself that he seemed happy about that.  
“Yes, I wanted to make something that reminded you of home but most Scottish food sounds really. . .”  
“Disgusting?”  
“Yeah,” Clara smiled weakly, “Sorry. How do you eat things like that? Like _Haggis_? Ew!”  
John shrugged as he carried the plates to the dining table. “I don't know. Maybe that's just one more reason why I left Scotland.”  
Clara sat down on her bed and took a deep breath. “Why _did_ you leave Scotland?” she asked, “We've been friends for a month now and I hardly know anything about you.”  
John sighed. “That's a really long story.”  
“Well,” she said, gesturing for him to sit down next to her, “We've got at least an hour until the turkey is done.”  
He inhaled sharply and slowly walked towards the bed to sit down. Clara waited patiently for him to begin but it took him a long time.  
“My life in Scotland was really boring, to be honest,” he began, “I was born in Glasgow. I grew up. I went to school. You already know that I became a doctor. I got married, had children and-”  
“Wait,” Clara interrupted him. She didn't know why it surprised her, “You had _children_?”  
John nodded. “They died along with my wife in the bombing of Glasgow while I was in London for a conference. After their funeral I packed my things and I haven't set foot into Glasgow since.”  
“You ran,” she realized, “That's why you came here, too. Whenever something bad happens you pack your things and you run from it.”  
“I guess you could say it like that,” John agreed with a sad smile, “The woman that died. The memory is all a bit fuzzy. I don't remember much. I don't even remember what she looked like. But she was under my care and I should have done something to save her and I couldn't. Since I didn't deserve to call myself a doctor any longer I came here, not knowing what else to be. Until I met _you_.”  
“How did _I_ change that?” Clara asked, laughing nervously.  
John seemed to ponder his words for a moment. “I saw you and I knew what I wanted to be – your friend.”  
Clara suddenly felt his gaze boring into her and she knew what he was about to ask her so she quickly looked away. She wasn't ready yet. Not for the whole story. Not at Christmas. Some things were still too painful to talk about.  
“What about you?” John asked. “What's your story? I don't suspect you moved into this town that you hate just to work as a waitress in a diner.”  
“No,” Clara replied in a sad tone and waited before she continued, “I was going to be a teacher. I was in my second year in college when my mother got sick. She had cancer. The doctors told us that she had a good chance of beating it with the right treatment but that was expensive, so I took a break from college and moved back here and worked at a diner in Albany to help my parents out. The treatment didn't work. My mum got worse and worse and she died just a little over a year later.”  
“I'm sorry,” John said sincerely.  
Clara only nodded.  
“I met Daniel on the same day. He was at the hospital because he had just lost both of his parents. A hate crime. Of course we bonded instantly and just a few weeks later he told me that he was in love with me. I loved him back. When my father met his. . .” she paused, “ _New wife_ Daniel and I moved here, to this town. I wanted to stay close to my family but I didn't want to see him so happy with another woman on a daily basis. Daniel got a job at the tailor. In the back, of course. And I worked at the diner.”  
“What happened to Daniel?” John asked all of a sudden.  
Clara took a deep breath. “I should probably check on the turkey. Don't want it to burn.”

She got up and headed towards the kitchen, shrugging off the memories she had just woken by talking about her past, reminding herself that all of that had happened a long time ago. Today was going to be a good day and the ghosts of Christmas past weren't going to ruin that for her.  
Once the turkey was done Clara and John settled at the dining table, eating, talking about unimportant things, laughing, drinking the eggnog and eating the shortbread fingers she had made, listening to Christmas songs on the radio. John complimented her on the food repeatedly, vowing that it was the best thing he had ever eaten.  
“I can't believe I almost spent Christmas with my dad and the stepmonster,” Clara laughed, “This is a lot nicer.”  
“It's nice indeed,” John replied, smiling at her, “I'm also looking forward to New Year's Eve. I'm curious how you celebrate it over here.”  
“Uhm, just dancing, drinking and staring into the sky, waiting for fireworks. Why? Is it different in the UK?”  
John laughed. “No, not really.”  
Clara turned her head, her gaze dropping to the guitar he had brought. “Hey, how about some home made Christmas music now? Or did you bring the guitar for decoration?”  
“I'll help you with the dishes first,” John said and rose from his seat, his hands already on the dirty plates.  
“No,” Clara stopped him by grabbing his hand, “Leave them for later.”

She settled on her bed and John joined her after he had plugged in the amplifier and picked up his guitar. She rested her head on his shoulder as he began tuning his instrument.  
“John?”  
“Yes?”  
“Merry Christmas,” Clara said softly.  
“Merry Christmas,” he replied and although she couldn't see his face she knew that he was smiling. She closed her eyes and listened to him play, hoping that he wouldn't stop for a long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely comments :)


	9. Chapter 9

Clara groaned in frustration as she put her book down. She really didn't understand why this sort of filth was putting her in the mood but it did. There had been no man in her life for a while and since she was never going to get married it would remain that way. Unless. . .

“No!” Clara said out loud. She wouldn't. Especially not with John, who was her friend and whose friendship was important to her. Clara wouldn't put that at risk just because she was feeling a little frisky. She was an attractive, young woman and she would most certainly come across a man she could have some fun with. But she wouldn't use John. And she would never get married just because she couldn't handle the cost of being alone.  
Clara felt her hair and noticed that it seemed completely dried now. With a sigh she got up from her bed and walked towards her closet. She would pick a nice dress, she'd take out her curlers and then she would go out and have a lovely New Year's Eve with John. After all she had been really looking forward to this for the past few days.

 

* * *

 

John straightened his tie one last time before he knocked on her door and Clara opened with a huge smile on her face.  
“Wow, you seem chipper,” he noticed as she closed the door behind her and pulled her coat a little closer.  
“Yes,” she replied happily, “I haven't been to a dance in years. You will dance with me, won't you?”  
John smiled back at her. “If you want to, of course. By the way, you look really lovely tonight.”  
“Thank you,” she said sincerely and looked down at him, “You're not too shabby either, Mister.”  
John offered her his arm. “Shall we go then?”

Clara's excitement was hard to tame once they had entered the town hall. A jazz band was playing on the stage and a few couples were already on the dance floor. A bar had been set up right next to the large buffet and at the end of the hall there were tables for everyone to sit down and eat or talk.  
“Hey, do you want to sit with Ray, Thomas and his wife?” John asked her and pointed to one of the tables, “Seems they still have room for two.”  
“Can't we have a dance first?” she asked, putting herself in his way towards the table, “Please?”  
John found it hard to resist her pleading look and after they had gotten rid of their coats he took her hand and led her towards the dance floor. The jazz band was playing a polka and he placed his hand on her waist as they started moving among the other couples. Clara soon burst into laughter.  
“Is something funny?” John asked, slightly amused by her mood.  
“No,” she replied, “I'm just having fun. _This_ is fun. We should do it more often.”  
“We will if it makes you laugh,” he said and he meant it. He'd do anything to make her laugh. John had a feeling she hadn't had a reason to do so in a long time.  
When the song ended Clara insisted on another dance, and then another and John almost had to drag her off the dance floor to finally go and say hello to his colleagues.  
“Hey, would you mind if we joined you?” he asked.  
“Absolutely not,” Raymond replied with a smile and greeted Clara first with a kiss on the hand before he turned towards John to say hello.  
After going back to the buffet and returning with food and drinks they took their seats at the table and started exchanging small talk about the dance and the music.  
“So, you're here together?” Raymond asked curiously but tried to hide his interest by sipping his beer.  
“We're here as friends,” Clara explained and glanced happily at John, “He is insistent that I should go out more often and I think he's right.”  
“He is,” Raymond confirmed, “A beautiful woman like you shouldn't hide inside her apartment all the time.”  
John cleared his throat and turned his attention towards Clara. “By the way, the motorcycle arrived yesterday. I'll have yours fixed and running in a couple of days.”  
“Yes,” Raymond added, “Don't worry about it. We'll fix it.”  
“I thought you didn't want to help,” John said and his voice sounded a little more cross that he had wanted it to. He didn't fully understand why Raymond was being like this all of a sudden.  
“I didn't know it was Clara's bike. Now I'd be happy to help, really,” he smiled towards her. 

John finished his drink in silence, watching his colleague openly flirt with Clara and to his dismay she started flirting back. He didn't know why he was so mad about it. After all, Clara was happy and that was all he really wanted for her. She should be happy and Raymond was a decent, hard working man who had so far only failed to find and keep a girl. It shouldn't cause a problem for John.  
The evening passed slowly and the only moments time seemed to speed up was when Clara dragged him to the dance floor until his feet were starting to feel numb. He really wasn't used to this kind of exercise and soon they found themselves back at their table and her attention seemed to be back on Raymond. Whenever that happened John tried to tune them out.  
“John,” Raymond suddenly interrupted his train of thoughts, “I know Clara came here with you but would you mind me stealing her for a dance or two?”  
_Only if you keep your hands to yourself_ , he thought but instead he forced a smile.  
“Of course not,” John replied.  
“Don't worry,” Clara beamed at him, “You're not yet off the hook. I'll be back for you.”

John watched as Raymond led her away to the dance floor and Clara still seemed to be enjoying herself thoroughly. Yes, that was exactly what she should do. Dance. Laugh. Be happy. Find a decent, young man to live her life with. But after a while it became so unbearable to watch that John excused himself from the table and went outside to get some fresh air.  
A couple of fireworks were already going off here and there and John observed them among the stars. It was cool out here but not cold and he decided he would remain here until he was sure Clara and Raymond were no longer dancing together. 

“Hey, it's almost midnight,” John heard Clara's voice behind him. He wasn't sure how long he had been out here but suddenly she was next to him, holding a steaming mug in his face.  
“What's this?” he asked, making a face as he smelled the contents.  
“Mulled wine,” Clara shrugged as she leaned against the wall next to him, “I thought you might be cold.”  
She followed his gaze and looked up to the stars for a long moment, carefully taking sips from her mug.  
“It's nice out here,” she said after a while, “I love looking at the stars.”  
“But you want to be inside and dance. Am I right?”  
Clara let out a shy laugh. “No, I think right now I'd like some fresh air. Besides, in a few minutes everyone will be out here, too, and at least we've secured ourselves a nice spot.”

She stepped closer and suddenly John felt her arm around his waist.  
“Thank you,” Clara whispered.  
“For what?”  
“Being my friend,” she sighed, resting her head against his arm.  
Clara had been right. People were starting to emerge from the inside the town hall, all gathering outside to watch the fireworks go off. He hadn't bought any but a lot of people were already setting up the pyrotechnics and shortly after the countdown began. John and Clara didn't take part, just watched and he noticed the smile that was still on her face. 

“3. . . 2. . .1. . . HAPPY NEW YEAR!” everyone around them shouted and as the fireworks started exploding John had meant to turn around towards Clara and wish her exactly the same but when he did he suddenly found her lips on his own.  
“Happy New Year, John,” she smiled broadly and after the peck she had just given him his heart was beating so quickly that at first he couldn't find the words at all.  
“Happy New Year,” he gulped.  
“What do you say? One more dance?” she asked happily and didn't even wait for his reply before she dragged him inside. John could do nothing but follow her.

His brain was still trying to process what had happened as they were again moving over the dance floor. It had just been a peck. Nothing more than that. But somehow it was the most confusing thing that could have happened to him. John hadn't even thought about kissing her, he would never have dreamed about it but then it had happened and now it seemed to be the only thing he could think about.  
One dance turned into several. They paused only to get another drink and then headed straight back to the floor and for a brief moment John wondered what had happened to Raymond and Thomas and Thomas' wife but when he looked into the direction of their table it appeared to be empty. Clara was laughing or smiling the entire time. She was utterly exuberant tonight and even though John was starting to get tired he couldn't bring himself to tell her and ruin her mood. He had never seen her so happy before and he wanted her to stay this way for as long as she wanted. Maybe that was all the kiss had really been. Just an expression of joy and of friendship. After all, it had been really, really short and over before he had realized what was even happening.  
It was 3 am when the music was starting to become slower and slower and only then did a yawn appear on Clara's face and they both agreed that it was probably time to go home. 

She held his arm the entire time as they walked, still laughing despite seeming utterly tired.  
“That was a wonderful evening,” Clara said joyfully.  
“Yes, it was,” John agreed. It had been. At least after midnight.  
She stopped in front of her door to search her purse for the key and after a moment she found it and turned back towards John.  
“Good night, John,” Clara said and went on her toes to peck him on the cheek.  
He didn't really understand what had gotten into him in that moment but John caught her in the movement and instead pulled her up to his lips. It was still a chaste kiss, even though it lasted longer than the one she had given him at midnight, even though he could feel her opening up to him. John still let her go and took a step back.  
“Good night, Clara,” he smiled and turned around to walk up the rest of the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the lovely comments :) Since tomorrow is DW day I will probably be too excited to write but at least I hope I gave you something nice to last for 2 days :D


	10. Chapter 10

John knew that when the diner opened at 1 pm today, Clara would be there, tired probably, but she'd be there and he needed to talk to her. He was still very much confused about the kiss she had given him at midnight and even more confused about the kiss he had given her afterwards. Kissing Clara was something that had not even remotely been on his mind until she had put it there and now the thought of it wasn't leaving.  
However when he stepped inside the diner he noticed that his usual seat was taken and Clara was talking to Raymond – and she was laughing.  
When the little bell on the door rang she looked up and spotted him, greeting him with her usual smile. A cup of coffee was awaiting him when he took a seat two stools away from Raymond.  
“I was just telling Clara that I will have a look at her motorcycle tomorrow,” Raymond said, poking at his ham and eggs with his fork.  
“Oh,” John raised his eyebrows, “I bet you did.”  
“You don't have to hurry. I can do without it for a few more days,” Clara replied.  
“No,” John interrupted her, “Ray is right. We should get it fixed soon.”  
He sipped his coffee and an awkward silence fell over them. Clara cleared her throat.  
“So, Ray, where did you disappear to last night? We didn't run into each other after midnight,” she asked him.  
John rolled his eyes. He wanted to be alone with Clara, talk about what had happened last night and not watch his colleague flirt with his friend.  
“I went to bed early and I actually have to leave now-”  
“What a shame,” John muttered under his breath. Luckily neither of them seemed to have understood the words.  
“I'm going to visit my parents, wish them a happy new year,” Raymond explained and got up from his chair, dropping some money – and a generous tip – on the table.  
“Have fun,” Clara wished him sincerely.

John took a deep breath when he was finally gone and quickly scooted over to his original seat, dragging the cup of coffee behind him.  
“So, did you sleep well last night?” he asked casually.  
“Like a baby. You?”  
He had barely slept at all but since Clara had apparently decided to pretend nothing had ever happened the night before he thought it was better not to say anything either. Instead he settled for a middle way.  
“The night was a bit shorter than I'm used to,” he paused and decided to change the topic, “I have the key to the garage and thought I might have a look at your motorcycle right away.”  
“Oh no,” Clara said immediately, “I told you. There's no hurry.”  
“Well,” he frowned, “We're expecting a new delivery of cars tomorrow and I might not have another chance soon. Besides, I don't mind at all. I'd like something to do.”  
She sighed in reply. “Well, if you absolutely insist. I'll stop by after work with something to eat, alright?”  
John smiled and nodded.

 

* * *

 

As Clara made her way to the garage she couldn't quite believe that their meeting earlier had actually taken place. He hadn't mentioned their kiss with a single syllable. Okay, she hadn't mentioned their kiss either but her kiss had been short and had actually made sense to her. It had been a simple New Year's Eve kiss between friends. What John had done was. . . Clara didn't even know what it had been but it bothered her that he hadn't felt the need to mention it.  
Maybe she had been wrong about him. After all, he was significantly older. He had already had a wife and a family. Maybe he _could_ handle it, maybe he could handle being her friend and on some occasions being more than that when the mood struck them.  
Clara knocked on the door before she carefully stepped inside and spotted John, his back to her, bent over the sink while he was washing his hands. Her eyes scanned the room and soon found her motorcycle.  
“It looks finished,” she commented as she stepped closer, leaving the bag with their takeout dinner and her jacket on the seat of it.  
John turned around, a boyish grin on his face. “It is. All done and ready for a ride.”  
Her mouth fell open. “No way.”  
“Way,” he replied with a proud smirk.

Clara looked at him for a moment as if seeing him for the first time. What if he couldn't handle it? What if she slept with him and it ruined their friendship because he would develop romantic feelings for her? Right now she was willing to risk it. John looked as nice in his oil stained work outfit as he did in a suit, maybe even more so and Clara had been alone for a long time.  
“John,” she began, “I need to ask you something.”  
He looked up, directly at her and he seemed a little confused. “Uhm. . . okay?”  
Clara took a deep breath. “That kiss, last night. That didn't really mean anything, did it?”  
John furrowed his brows.  
“Well?” she pressed.  
“I guess not,” he replied after a while, “Why do you ask?”

Clara bit her lip and approached him. If she did this there was no telling how it would turn out. If she did this there was no way back. She came to a halt right in front of him and placed both her hands on his shoulders. John raised an eyebrow at her.  
“Clara?”  
“John,” she smiled nervously, “I want to sleep with you. Right here. Right now. No questions asked. No talking it to the ground afterwards. Are you up for that?”  
“I don't think I understand?”  
Clara had run out of ways to make it plain to him so instead of talking she pushed herself up on tiptoes and kissed him. He was hesitant at first and the only reaction she got from him was his hands slowly wandering to her waist, holding her gently. Playfully she bit his lower lip at which he winced slightly, but John didn't pull back. Finally he opened his mouth to her and Clara trailed the outline of his tongue with her own while he pressed her body against him. He felt nice against her, especially now that he was beginning to loosen up. She slid her hands down his chest and it was warm beneath her palms, his heart beating fast. John was lean, but not too muscled and Clara became curious, wondering if the same silver curls that looked so handsome on him were covering his chest as well. Her hands wandered further down but when they had reached his belt John suddenly stopped her and pulled away.  
“Should we be doing this? I thought,” he spluttered, “I thought we were friends?”  
Clara gave a slight shrug. “Who says friends can't do this if they both want to?”  
When John showed no reaction she reached for his belt again, drawing him backwards until her legs hit the hood of a car. Beneath her hands she thought she could spot the outline of a growing erection under his trousers. This sparked not only her curiosity but also her desire to finally feel a man inside of her again. Just the thought of him and her imagination of what it would be like to have him enter her made Clara itch.  
Carefully, as if giving him a chance to still say no, she undid his belt. John only looked at her, his eyes so much darker than usual, betraying him in his arousal. Clara went further and began to unbutton his trousers. Again he said nothing as she pulled down his underwear, revealing him to be already half hard. Clara allowed herself to smile as she slid one hand under his shirt and ran her fingernails over his chest. John closed his eyes and murmured something as her fingers wandered down his chest and finally to the sensitive skin around the base of his shaft. He was a promising size already and Clara found it hard to wait any longer as she wrapped her hand around him. His eyes flew open again.  
“How do you like it?” she purred softly as she stroked him harder.  
John gulped audibly. “I, erm,” he stammered, “I don't know.”  
“But you _do_ know where it goes, right?” Clara asked teasingly. Of course he knew. He had had wife and children and that was something she probably shouldn't be thinking about now or otherwise her thoughts would lead to Daniel and then. . . she quickly brushed the thoughts aside. There was still time for her guilt later.  
John laughed nervously. “Yes, I know.”  
“Good,” she whispered.  
She released him and her hands wandered under her own skirt, pushing down her knickers a moment later. Clara leaned back on the hood of a car and suddenly John seemed to have woken up. His trousers and pants gathered around his ankles as he bent over her and she wrapped her legs around him. He entered her carefully at first and Clara closed her eyes, suppressing a moan as she hooked her arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss. John was slowly picking up speed, his hardness filling her up and almost hitting that spot that could bring her to come so quickly. She pushed her hips up to meet him, desperate for him to dig in deeper.  
Clara moaned underneath him when his lips left her mouth to kiss their way down her throat. One of his hands pushed between their bodies and found its way to her clit, rubbing her at the same delicious pace. She arched her back up for more. Clara should have known he was good at this, that he would know what he was doing. It was as if every move was intended to make her fall apart underneath him and it did. She cried out as she came, not caring that anyone might hear. All Clara wanted was him and his touch and riding out that last crushing wave of her orgasm when she suddenly noticed his movements grow more frantic, more uncoordinated and thank God she came back to her senses in time.  
“No,” she muttered breathlessly, trying to push him off, “Not inside me.”  
John pulled out and looked at her, his gaze unfocused, confused, his face utterly flushed with arousal and his cock dripping wet and hanging in the air. Instantly Clara dropped to her knees and wrapped her lips around him, almost choking in the attempt to take him in all at once and his hands landed on her shoulders as John picked up where he left off, fucking her mouth at the same rhythm. Soon his movements stilled completely as he came with a groan and spilled himself inside her mouth. She swallowed.  
John panted heavily as she let him go and he stumbled backwards, pulling up his trousers, and leaned against the car, utterly spent and trying to catch his breath.  
“Are you okay?” Clara asked carefully as she picked up her knickers from the floor. They were as dirty as the ground they had been lying on, so she only slipped them into her pocket.  
“Are you kidding me?” John asked back, laughing under his ragged breath, “I might be old, but I'm not that old that you could kill me with this. Although you tried very hard.”  
Clara burst into laughter. “I'm sure you will recover from my assault.”  
She stepped closer and pressed a long, soft kiss to his lips before she went to look at him.  
“Thank you,” she said sincerely, “That was wonderful.”  
“I'm pretty sure I should be the one thanking you.”  
They both remained silent for a moment.  
“I should go home,” Clara said after a while, “I'll pick my motorcycle up tomorrow if that's alright?”  
“Yeah, sure,” he breathed in reply.  
“Good night,” she smiled, “And enjoy your dinner.”  
“Good night, Clara.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your sweet comments :) Hope you all enjoyed last night's episode and I hope you will enjoy this ;)


	11. Chapter 11

When John woke up he knew one thing: that he had done it all wrong. He shouldn't have let it get that far, not yet anyway. It hadn't been right and he would try his hardest to fix it. A man should court a woman, treat her like a lady, not use their friendship the way he had last night, if what they had could still be called a friendship now. John really wasn't sure any longer but he wanted more than that now.  
He knew that it was early when John knocked on her door but he didn't care. He really needed to talk to Clara before the confusion in him grew to be unbearable. When she opened she was already dressed in her work attire.  
“Oh,” she uttered and quickly put on a smile, “Hey John. If you want to walk to work with me you're a bit early.”  
“I need to talk to you,” John said gravely and once that had sunk in he watched Clara roll her eyes at him.  
“We had a deal,” she replied defensively, “And that included 'no talking it to the ground afterwards', remember?”  
“Wait,” he was confused but still pushed his way past her into her living room before she closed the door, “Are you just going to pretend that nothing ever happened?”  
Clara shrugged and finally nodded.  
“I can't do that. I don't wanna do that,” John told her earnestly.  
“Well, you're going to have to,” she sighed, “John, seriously, I like you a lot and I am more grateful for your friendship than you will ever understand but that's got to be it. Yesterday was wonderful and I would absolutely not mind if it happened again some time, but I don't want to talk about it. I don't want it to be a big deal.”

John took a deep breath and looked at her for a long time, this beautiful woman who had wanted him to kiss her and touch her the previous night and who was now building up walls faster than he could evade them.  
“I never thought about kissing you or sleeping with you. You were my friend, _just_ my friend. The rest never even crossed my mind until you put it there and now I can't think about anything else. Last night, that's not how it should have happened. I should have treated you right. I should have taken you out on a date, a real date-”  
“You did that,” Clara replied with a light smile, “You took me to the bar and to the dance. It was great, I loved that.”  
“That was as friends. I never thought of it as anything more and now I want to make up for that. I was stupid, Clara, I was stupid for not seeing that there might be more.”  
Clara frowned and huffed. “What sort of man doesn't think about the possibility of sex? Come on, you can't tell me that you never even for a second thought about it.”  
“Me, _I'm_ the sort of man, and I never thought about it,” John said angrily but quickly calmed his voice, “I want to make it right.”  
“I don't want you to,” she replied plainly, “Because I see nothing wrong in what we did and I want us to remain friends.”  
“What if I want more?”  
“I don't do more, John. I don't do dating or romance or any of that and I want you to stop talking about it,” Clara turned her back on him, looking out of the living room window, “I was afraid this would happen.”  
“Clara, why on earth did you sleep with me when you don't want any of that? If I'm too old for you or too weird or. . . I don't know, why did you do it?” he demanded to know. He really had no idea what was going on in her head and he needed to understand.  
“Gosh, John, it's not you,” she turned back to face him and now he noticed that there were tears forming in the corners of her eyes, “It's me! _I_ won't ever have a boyfriend again. _I_ won't ever get married. I'm sorry if I gave you false hope for anything beyond friendship and I really hope you will forgive me.”  
“I don't understand.”

Clara squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath.  
“I was engaged once,” she said and pulled her necklace out from under her uniform, revealing a modest engagement ring dangling at the end of it, “I promised Daniel that I would be his wife and I can't ever keep that promise now but I will not betray him and be the wife of someone else. Romance will always lead that way, _always_ , unless I remain unmarried and the outcast forever.”  
“Clara?” John asked carefully, “What happened to Daniel?”  
“I don't want to talk about it.”  
“You said I was your friend,” John said angrily, “And as your friend, don't you think I have the right to know?”  
“He died!” Clara yelled at him and the tears came flowing from her eyes in earnest now, “There! Are you happy now?! He died and I blame this town for it. He was on his way to Albany when a car hit him and he was lying on the street for God knows how long and no one helped him, no one thought about calling me so I could help him. I didn't just bury my fiancé, I buried the life we would have had together. We were saving up for college! We had found one that had accepted us both and I was to be a teacher and he wanted to become a lawyer. We wanted to get married two months after the accident happened. I was going to buy a dress the next day. I wanted-”  
Clara broke off, her voice suddenly gone as she burst out in sobs. John had no idea how to comfort her so he just walked up and closed his arms around her. Clara buried her face in his chest and he gently placed a kiss on her head.  
“I'm sorry,” he whispered, “I didn't know that.”  
“I can't ever be with someone else like I would have been with Daniel. I made a promise,” she said weakly.  
“I'm sure that you loved him and that he loved you back. How couldn't he? But Clara,” he paused, “You can't miss out on what would probably be the most beautiful part of your life just because the first attempt didn't work out. Daniel wouldn't want you to. I'm sure he'd want you to be happy and you deserve that. All of it. Your dream career, a boyfriend, husband, children. You should at least give it a try.”  
“Says the man who fled his home town and even his continent because the memories were too painful,” Clara said coldly.  
“I'm trying to change now, am I not? I'm making an honest attempt here, with you. I wanted a fresh start and I think that could be it.”  
“I can't,” Clara replied weakly and looked up at him, “Look at you, John. You're what? 30 years older than I am? Imagine that it did work out between us, imagine we'd start dating and we'd fall in love and get married. Imagine we had a child. You could be dead before the kid is even 10 and I'd be alone all over again and I can't do that. Not again. It's too much.”  
“Then we might as well get _you_ a coffin right now because you're throwing your life away out of fear that something bad might happen. Have you ever for a second thought about that it might all work out well?”  
“No,” she replied and finally wiped the tears from her face, “Because all life has ever done for me was to take away the people that I loved and from what you've told me the same thing happened to you. So how can you be so optimistic about it?”  
“Because I have hope, I never give up. And if you give me a chance I will show it to you. I will show you that good things can happen.”

Clara suddenly struggled free from his embrace and grabbed her purse from the sofa.  
“I have to go to work now. Close the door behind you when you leave.”  
“I won't give up, Clara. Not until you agree to give me a chance,” he said sincerely.  
“Well, good luck then,” she spat and was out of the door before he could say anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the sweet comments :) They always make my day!


	12. Chapter 12

Clara dragged herself upstairs after her shift had finally ended. She knew she had promised John to pick up her motorcycle today but after working overtime the garage and car shop had both already been closed and all she really wanted to do was sleep. However a surprise was waiting for her when she reached her doorstep. Clara groaned when she saw it. John had placed a huge bouquet of flowers on the floor in front of her door, or at least she highly suspected them to come from John. Clara picked them up and took the next flight of stairs to his apartment, knocking furiously on his door.  
“I'm gonna take a wild guess and say these are from you?” Clara spat at him when John opened the door.  
“Yes,” he replied with a smile, “Do you like them? I didn't know which ones were your favourite so I had the florist pick them.”  
“Whether or not I like them is completely beside the point. _This_ ,” she held the bouquet in his face, “Is romance. And I said I don't want that. I told you I don't do romance.”  
“Well,” John cleared his throat, “I don't do _sex friends_ or whatever you would like to call it. That part only comes with romance.”  
He grinned at her. This stupid, idiotic grin as if he was utterly sure of himself. Clara rolled her eyes and sighed.  
“John, I want your friendship. I want what we had that last month, you and me being pals, hanging out, having fun. The rest doesn't matter to me.”  
He shrugged. “Didn't seem like it last night.”  
She groaned at him. “I just was in the mood, okay? Next time I'll find someone else.”  
“And why would you wanna do that?” he smiled kindly and placed his hands on both of her upper arms, “Last night was a huge surprise to me but I thought we worked. And I think if you just let me I could prove it to you that a real relationship is nothing to be afraid of – or to feel guilty about.”  
“We work as _friends_ ,” Clara insisted, struggling free of his grip, “Unless you keep thinking that there will be more. I don't want to lose you because of last night.”  
“There's an easy solution. Give me a chance.”  
“Never gonna happen,” Clara replied and pushed the flowers up against his chest.  
“No, you keep them. They were a gift,” he told her.  
“Fine,” she agreed with a sigh but glared at him, “But that's it. No more gifts. Promise me that!”  
He seemed to consider it for a moment and finally nodded. “Okay, no more gifts.”  
“Good,” Clara concluded, “I'll pick up my motorcycle tomorrow after my shift.”

She was about to turn around an leave when she looked at the flowers in her hand. It really didn't matter now, so she could just as well say it.  
“Sunflowers,” she said.  
“Excuse me?” John raised his eyebrows at her.  
“Sunflowers. I like sunflowers,” she added, “They're my favourite. But these are really lovely, too. Thank you.”  
John smiled at her. “You're welcome.”

Back in her own apartment Clara placed the flowers in a large vase and set them down on her coffee table. They were a lovely gesture and Clara really couldn't hold it against him but if he kept thinking that they could be involved romantically she was going to lose John as a friend.  
It wasn't so much that she still held on to her previous engagement. Daniel had died a long time ago and Clara had come to live with that even though the thought of it still made her sad. She missed it. She missed waking up next to the man she loved, she missed surprise kisses and a hand that held her own. Clara knew that she could easily have that again but the price seemed too high. She wouldn't give her heart away only to have it ripped into pieces again when it was still healing from its last wound. John was right – they probably would indeed work as a couple, or at least she could well imagine it. But when her imagination moved on to falling in love and marriage and kids all she saw was that by pure reasoning he would be the one to die first and he would leave her alone all over again, probably while she was still raising their children. It would tear her apart.  
All of her dreams about becoming a mother and a wife to a loving husband included the possibility of loss and that was something Clara would never put herself through again. She was safer this way. 

 

* * *

 

After working overtime the previous day Clara got off work earlier and headed directly towards the garage only to find Raymond tinkering with the engine of _the_ car. Clara cleared her throat to announce herself, brushing the memory that was connected to the car aside.  
“Oh, hi Clara,” he said happily, “Come to pick up your motorcycle?”  
“Yes. Is John around?”  
“Talking to Lonny in the office. He'll be back in a few minutes,” he pointed at her bike, “That was quite a piece of work, you know?”  
Clara frowned for a second, knowing that John had fixed it all on his own.  
“Oh?”  
“Yeah,” Raymond let out a sharp breath, “But I fixed it. It's good to go now.”  
A knowing smile spread on Clara's face but she decided to play along for a moment to see where it would lead.  
“So, you fixed it on your own then?” she asked innocently.  
“Well, John tried to help of course, but, you know, he's not really an expert when it comes to engines,” he grinned at her playfully, “So, what do you think is a proper way to say thank you? You could. . . maybe. . . invite me for a drink? What do you say?”  
“Oh, I don't know,” Clara said mockingly as she stepped closer, trailing the hood of the car with her fingers, “Cause I thought I had already said thank you _to John_ two days ago when we had sex on this car.”  
She turned her smile in Raymond's direction and saw the realisation strike him.  
“Come on, we both know you didn't lift a finger to fix it, so let's just forget this conversation ever happened, okay?” Clara suggested coldly.  
She watched his eyes wander from her to the hood of the car, probably trying to imagine what had happened on it when he quickly looked away again.  
“Sorry,” he mumbled. 

Luckily John entered the garage at this moment and he seemed to be in quite a good mood.  
“Hey John,” she greeted him with a smile, “Came to pick up my bike at last.”  
“Oh, yeah, sure,” he said and turned around to retrieve her key from the key rack before he handed it to her, “If anything else breaks or sounds suspicious or doesn't seem right, you come straight back here, okay? We've got all the spare parts we need now.”  
Clara nodded with a smile. “Thank you.”  
“Drive safely,” John told her.  
“I will,” Clara replied and only now noticed that their fingers were still touching around the key. She quickly pulled her hand away, “Thank you.”  
She turned around to leave before John had a chance to say anything else. Clara hated how awkward it was when they touched now and hoped that he would soon forget the idea of dating her so they could go back to normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely comments :) Let's see if John can change her mind, shall we? ;)


	13. Chapter 13

“You should have told me she was yours!” Raymond complained as soon as Clara had pushed her motorcycle out of the door.  
John turned around to face his colleague. “What are you talking about?” he asked in confusion.  
“Clara, of course,” Raymond said defensively, “I thought you two were just friends so I made a move. I'm sorry, seriously. It's never gonna happen again. I just didn't know.”  
John still didn't understand a thing that Raymond was saying. “Didn't know _what_?”  
Raymond groaned. “You and Clara. That you, erm. . .,” seemingly lost he just pointed at the hood of the car and slowly it began to dawn on John.  
“Wait, she told you about that?!”  
“Seriously, had I known you two were together I'd have never asked her out.”  
John took a deep breath and sighed. “I think you misunderstood something. Clara and I, we're not together. That was just a one time thing. She says she doesn't want romance and I don't want without. I don't know what kind of weird friendship she had in mind, but that's not my thing.”

Raymond suddenly burst into laughter.  
“What's so funny?” John asked him, the annoyance audible in his voice.  
“You turned down a fling with an incredibly beautiful, young woman who is half your age and who is clever and funny, a fling that would have come with absolutely no strings attached and you ask me what's funny?” he laughed.  
John furrowed his brow. “But _you_ would have done it?” he asked angrily, “Is that what you're saying?”  
“Of course I would have. That sounds like the most perfect arrangement ever,” Raymond snorted.  
“Just for the record,” John put his arms akimbo, “You're keeping your hands off her. And just so you know, I _will_ change her mind.”  
“How are you gonna do that?” Raymond asked, seemingly intrigued.  
“Oh, I'll think of something,” John replied and started whistling a tune as he turned his attention to the car engine in front of them. 

 

* * *

 

Clara had just gone to bed and was about to close her eyes and sleep when she suddenly thought she heard music. When she listened more closely everything went silent again. It had probably just been John playing his guitar upstairs before he had realized that it had been a bit too loud. Clara sighed, closed her eyes and turned around in her bed.  
Then there was the music again, only louder this time and definitely closer. Her eyes flew open. No, he wouldn't do it. He would not play in the hallway in front of her door.  
Clara groaned, got out of bed and threw her bathrobe loosely over her pyjamas as she headed in the direction of the music. Of course John would. Of course he would play the guitar right in front of her doorstep.  
“Do you have an idea what time it is?” Clara yelled at him as she opened the door. And there he was. Standing on the steps next to her, his guitar slung around his chest and playing a sad tune at a very loud volume. When he just continued despite her yelling Clara crossed her arms in front of her chest and waited impatiently for him to finish. It was a beautiful song but she was mad at him and that was why she would never admit that.  
John finished his song, wiggling the vibrato and took a bow in front of her. Clara only scolded him with her gaze.  
“What on earth are you doing, John?” she asked angrily.  
“Isn't it obvious?” he asked back, playing a chord that lingered even after he was done strumming, “I'm playing you a song, hoping to change your mind.”  
“You promised me no more romance!”  
“No,” John said, “I promised no more gifts. This isn't a gift. So, please, Clara, just give us a shot. Just _one_ date.”  
He started playing that melody again and this time Clara almost gave in because of how beautiful it sounded.  
“What song is that?” she asked, her voice much softer now.  
“I called it _Clara_.”  
She raised her eyebrows. “ _You_ wrote that song? _For me_?”  
“Is that a problem?”  
“Yes,” Clara replied, raising her voice, “Writing me a song, that's a gift. Now stop it!”  
No man had ever written a song for her, not even Daniel. And Clara was pretty sure that very few woman could say that a man had serenaded them with a song that had been written especially for them. Even underneath her anger she felt slightly moved but not enough to forget about her own rules.  
“Okay,” John said and suddenly started playing another melody that she didn't recognize either.  
“John, you can't do this. Not in the middle of the night. You'll get both of us in trouble!”  
“I'll stop as soon as you agree to go out on a date with me. I don't know about you but I can stand here all night.”  
“Jeez, John!” she groaned but suddenly she was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps. 

“What is going on up here?” their landlord demanded angrily.  
“I'm sorry,” Clara apologized quickly, “I'm trying to make him stop but he _won't listen_.”  
“You,” the landlord pointed at John as soon as he had come to a halt next to them, “Cut that out or you will both have to find a new place to stay tomorrow! Some people here are trying to sleep!”  
“I'm terribly sorry if I disturbed your sleep,” John said with a big, apologetic grin, “But, you see, I'm trying to convince this beautiful lady to go out on a date with me.”  
The landlord growled. “I don't care what you two get up to, just get up to it quietly. If I can still hear music in five minutes both of you can pack your things. Do I make myself clear?!”  
“Very clear,” John nodded.  
“Yes,” Clara agreed, hissing through her teeth as she watched the landlord go back downstairs. She was about to wish John a good night when all of a sudden he started playing the first melody again and he didn't look like he had the slightest intention to stop.  
“John, this is serious! He is going to kick us out if you don't stop it! You have nowhere else to go!”  
“Neither do you,” he winked at her, hitting the vibrato again, “But at least we'll have nowhere to go together.”  
Lost for words Clara just shook her head.  
“One date, that is all I'm asking,” John said sincerely and for a moment he stopped playing. He just stood there motionlessly and looked at her, “I think you are lonely and you want romance, you want a relationship but you're scared and I get that. Give me one chance to remind you what you're missing out on. If you don't like it, if after the date you say you really don't want any of that we'll go back to being just friends. You will never bring up sex again and I will stop asking you to go out with me. Just one shot, Clara.”  
Clara closed her eyes and sighed. John knew her better than she would have thought. She indeed wanted it, but there was that fear again. That fear of loss. But he just wanted _one_ date and afterwards she was free to say no. It seemed like very little could go wrong.  
“If agreeing to a date gets you and the guitar off my doorstep,” she finally said, hoping to make her annoyance visible.  
“Is that a yes?” John raised his eyebrows.  
“Yes, I will go out on a date with you. _One_. And it better be a good one,” Clara said angrily, “Now go back inside before our landlord kicks us out for real!”  
A sincere smile spread across his face and John turned the guitar on his back before he stepped closer, only stopping right in front of her.  
“You won't regret it, I promise.”  
“We'll see about that,” Clara headed back inside her apartment when a thought crossed her mind and she turned around once more, “That song, did you really write that for me?”  
John raised an eyebrow. “Will I get into trouble if I say yes?”  
Clara laughed. “No,” she replied sincerely, “I loved it. It's beautiful.”  
“It better be,” he joked, “It's gonna be stuck in my head for days now.”  
She giggled in reply before she closed the door between them and took a deep breath. Yes, there was very little that could go wrong. But one big thing that could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your sweet comments :) Here comes the next one :D


	14. Chapter 14

John watched Clara lock the front door and turn over the sign that now read “ _closed_ ” from the outside before she headed back to the tables to gather up the dirty dishes.  
“Are you going to wear that uniform to our date?”  
“No,” Clara replied, chuckling, “I have a dress in the back. Where are you even taking me?”  
John grinned at her. “It's a surprise.”  
“It's been a surprise for a week and I'd really hate to be over or underdressed. Now is the last chance to change that, so tell me.”  
“Alright,” he sighed in defeat, “I was thinking that we could take the bus to the city, go to a nice restaurant and see _Journey To The Center Of The Earth_ afterwards.”  
“The movie?”  
“Yeah, I've heard it's good. Nice, little adventure.”  
Clara frowned at him. “I'm not really the adventurous type,” she commented.  
“You never know. You might be,” John winked at her, “Besides, it's only a movie and I'm sure you'll like it.”  
Clara's features softened and eventually she started laughing. “I was toying with you. Of course I'll like it, I've read the book. But I have to clean up first.”  
Clara started gathering up the plates and John rose from his stool as well.  
“Here, let me help you,” he offered and together they carried the dirty dishes to the back of the diner.   
Clara filled the sink with steaming water as John handed her plate after plate to scrub clean. He watched her for a while and couldn’t help but think about how beautiful she was in her bright blue dress and her hair tied back in this messy way. But the thing that always struck him most were her eyes. If one just looked long enough they betrayed everything: her sadness, her loneliness, her losses. John had seen them light up with happiness and pure joy on several occasions but most vividly he remembered how they had looked on New Year’s Eve. He would give everything just to see them sparkle like that every day. 

John walked up behind her and without thinking he placed his arms around her, his hands dipping into the sink.  
“What are you doing?” Clara asked, amusement in her voice.  
“Helping you wash the dishes, of course,” he said and his hands got hold of her dishcloth.   
Clara turned her face to the side, trying to look at him. “How am I supposed to do anything when you stole my dishcloth?”  
John bent down a little and placed a long, soft kiss on the corner of her lips that immediately curled into a smile. That was exactly what he had been aiming at, to see that serene, sincere smile on her face.   
Clara turned around in his embrace, now facing him and her wet hands were touching the back of his head, pulling him down for another kiss. John wanted to take her on the spot. He wanted to kiss the breath out of her, to sink into her and all those other things he couldn’t even remember ever wanting with anyone though he knew that he had at some point of his life. But right now the only woman, no, the only person in his head was Clara.   
John gently wrapped his arms around her and Clara pressed herself against his lower body, the closeness of her sending his blood to rush south. This wasn’t how he had wanted this date to go down. 

Suddenly Clara pulled away from his lips, gasping for air and smiling at him. “I like this date so far.”  
“That wasn’t planned,” he admitted breathlessly.   
“A bit of spontaneousness has never hurt anyone,” Clara gave a slight shrug, her hands wandering from the back of his neck to his chest. They felt warm even through the fabric of his shirt as she slipped his jacket off his shoulders and it came tumbling down to the floor, “I think this is a wonderful way to start a date.”  
Clara was so small in his hands, so light that it was hardly any effort to lift her up to sit on the counter. Their lips clashed again, more passionately this time as she slipped her tongue into his mouth. The memories came back to him immediately, the memories of how the same tongue had licked around the tip of his cock and he groaned at the mere thought of how much pleasure it had brought him. Clara Oswin Oswald might have been a lonely, young woman but she sure as hell wasn’t a saint, not in the bedroom. Or the garage. Or the back of the diner for that matter. As he kissed her Clara’s hand wandered downwards, grazing him through the fabric of his trousers and John found himself pushing harder against her palm.   
In return he let his hand slide underneath her skirt and soon found the edge of her stockings. His fingers wandered past them, heading towards the hot, wet centre between her thighs. Clara shuddered and uttered a mewling sound as he slipped his thumb underneath the fabric of her knickers and between her folds. Her grip around his growing erection tightened as she rocked against his finger and John added another one to slowly slip inside her. Clara gasped as their lips parted for a moment and she closed her eyes, her head falling back for a second before she came to look at him again through hooded eyes. He was so hard now that the fabric around him began to feel uncomfortably tight but her hands had left him to wrap around his neck in an attempt to find support as he teased her with his fingers.   
“More,” she begged weakly and he slid a second finger inside while his thumb was still busy with her clit. She moaned throatily and the sound of it seemed to go right through his spine. John dreamed about thrusting his cock inside of her the same way his fingers did and his erection twitched impatiently at the thought of if.   
Clara was panting under his touch, her hips moving forward to meet him now and she uttered a series of _oohhs_ and _mmhhs_ as he dug deeper and faster inside of her. Her legs began to tremble as she came and her juices came flowing over his fingers. Carefully he pulled them out and Clara sighed with satisfaction.  
“You really know what you are doing, don’t you?” she asked through a breathless laugh before her gaze dropped to the all too obvious bulge in his trousers. He was almost painfully hard now, craving some form of release, “Can’t let you go out like _that_ , John.”  
A shy smirk spread across his face. “I suppose not.”

Clara jumped off the counter and her hands had found the way to his belt buckle before he could even process what was happening. She gently turned him around and his back came to rest against the counter as she pulled his trousers and pants down, his erection finally sprang free of the restricting fabric. Clara slowly sank on her knees in front of him. For a moment John thought about how uncomfortable it must be with her bare knees on the cold floor but then she looked up at him, her lips only inches away from his cock he forget about everything as she placed a soft kiss to the tip. Her hands came to rest around the base of his shaft as she ran her tongue along his length. It felt so hot that the sensation was almost burning. She twirled it playfully around the tip and dipped it into the small slit, all this teasing almost driving him insane. All he could think about when she ran her flat tongue across his sensitive underside was that he wanted to feel so much more of her.   
Finally Clara showed him mercy and licked her lips before she wrapped them around him and slowly started to suck him into her mouth. His legs felt wobbly all of a sudden when his attention started to centre around what Clara was doing to him. John uttered a low moan as she increased the pressure around him and he found himself thrusting into her mouth. His hands curled into her hair, making it even messier than it had been before while trying to guide her movement around his cock. One of her hands dropped to his balls and began to massage them softly and one of her fingers found its way to the spot right behind them.  
He groaned loudly as the tip of him hit the back of her throat and almost had he uttered some vile obscenities in his arousal. The combined work of her mouth and her hands was so overwhelming that it seemed to catapult him right to the edge.   
“Clara, I’m. . .,” he tried to warn her but the words got stuck in his throat and out came only a guttural moan as pleasure took over and she sucked him only a tiny bit harder as he came, emptying himself in her mouth.   
John’s head fell back and he let go off Clara, his hands grasping around the edge of the counter as she licked him clean, her tongue savouring the last moments of his arousal before it slowly abated.   
He was still panting when Clara’s mouth left him and she scrambled to her feet to place a long kiss on his lips. John gently pulled her closer, deepening they kiss despite the lack of breath just to show his gratitude.   
“Thank you,” he uttered.  
Clara giggled softly. “No need to thank me.”  
John turned his head to have a look at the clock and realized that it was a lot later now than he had expected.  
“I’m afraid we only have time for either dinner or the movie,” he said and turned back around to look at Clara, “I’m sorry.“  
“Don’t you apologize for this. _This_ was great,” she said determinedly, “We can grab a snack at the movies. Unless you’re really hungry. I’m fine either way.”  
“Then we will do that but after tonight, when you make your decision, you have to take into account that I had planned both.”  
Clara smiled at him happily. “Of course I will.”

They quickly finished the dishes together before Clara changed into her evening dress. John tried very hard to be a gentleman and look away when she undressed next to him, although it seemed ridiculous given what they had done only 10 minutes earlier. They walked to the bus station holding hands and John was slightly surprised that Clara allowed it when they could be spotted by everyone. 

Even for a weekday the cinema was empty and so they sat in the back row alone, eating hot dogs and sharing a large cup of Coca Cola while the movie played in front of them. John however was much more interested in Clara’s reaction than the actual film and to his relief she seemed to be enjoying herself. Carefully he placed his arm around her shoulder and Clara leaned her head against his chest with a content sigh.  
“How am I doing so far?” he whispered.  
“Great,” she replied happily, “You’re doing great.”  
However when he looked back at her Clara’s features had turned sad. He lifted her chin up with his hand and bent down for a kiss. John couldn’t say what happened in the movie after that because Clara spent the entire rest of the time snogging him senseless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwww, thank you all so much for your sweet comments :)


	15. Chapter 15

“So,” John exhaled sharply as they made their way out of the cinema, “How is your take on romance now?”  
Clara hooked her arm into his and put on a smile even though she didn't quite feel like smiling. She had thought she would go home today and tell him that it would be better for both of them to go back to what they had had before. Just friends. Nothing more.  
“You don't have to answer right now,” he added, “The evening isn't even over yet.”  
They walked in silence for a moment, heading towards the bus stop.  
“You know what's missing around here?” John asked out of the blue.  
“No? What's missing?”  
“Snow,” he replied, “Everything is prettier when it snows.”  
Clara chuckled. “Well, seems like you moved to the wrong part of the country. Texas isn't exactly famous for its heavy snowfall.”  
“I think I moved to exactly the right part of the country,” John said sincerely and turned his head in her direction, “Lots of places have snow, but only this place has a Clara Oswin Oswald.”  
“Shut up,” Clara laughed, trying to hide the fact that she was blushing, “Besides, check the statistics. My name isn't so uncom-”  
Before she could finish her sentence John had stopped and bent down to kiss her again as if they hadn't shared enough kisses tonight to last a lifetime. And yet she yielded to him again because it was what she wanted, because it was easy. Easier than to admit that she was terrified. She sighed when they parted lips again.  
“How do we go back from this?” Clara asked, her voice low and sad, “If I decide I don't want this, how do we go back to being just friends?”  
John wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. “No one said we had to go back.”  
She frowned at him and pulled away, out of their embrace. “This is serious, John,” she said angrily, “I want you in my life but I'm not sure I can do _this_. I'm scared, okay? I'm actually scared that I'm going to fall for you only to lose you in the end! Right now it's easy but if you make me fall in love with you it will tear me apart, so stop it right there!”  
“Clara,” he said gently, trying to place his hands on her arms but she stepped back, “You're not going to lose me.”  
She took a deep breath and fought back her tears. “You don't know that. You _can't_ know that. You can't promise me that you will not die before me.”  
“If that's what it takes then I promise you I will not die before you,” John replied and he sounded utterly sincere.  
“But you can't make that promise!”  
“Neither can you,” John said, now raising his voice as well, “Think about Daniel, think about your mother or my family. All of them died young and nothing could have predicted that. Who's to say it isn't you who's going to leave me with a broken heart?”  
“I just know,” Clara breathed and now the tears came for real, “Because it's always the same. It's always me.”  
John shook his head. “Not this time. Not with me. I'd live to be 110 just to make you happy and you know that.”  
Clara snorted in reply. “I believe that you would if you had a say in that.”  
They fell silent for a moment until John interrupted their silence with a groan.  
“This is seriously the worst date ever,” he complained, “I demand a second chance.”  
“It's not the worst date ever,” she tried to calm him. It really wasn't. Up until five minutes ago it had been nearly perfect.  
John held his hand in her direction, inviting her to take it. “Come on, let's go home. It's late.”  
Reluctantly she took it and slowly they resumed their walk towards the bus stop.  
“This _must_ be the worst date,” John repeated, “All this time I've been thinking about how beautiful you look tonight and I've not even once said it.”  
Clara shrugged next to him. “I haven't told you that you look handsome either, so I guess we're even.”  
“But you know what would make you look even more beautiful? A laugh, a real, heartfelt laugh,” and as soon as he had finished his sentence Clara felt his hands around her waist as he lifted her up and spun her around on the pavement.  
And John got what he had wanted because Clara immediately broke out into surprised laughter before she demanded to be put back down again.  
“See, that's what I was talking about!”  
“Yes, yes,” she replied in defeat, still laughing, “I get it.”

They talked about unimportant things on the bus ride home, anything unimportant that they could think of and Clara was grateful for that as she held his hand. She needed time to think about it. A part of her wanted it all, wanted to see where a romance with John would lead, to be with him and yet there was this voice inside her, reminding her of all the losses she had had to endure and she just couldn't shake it. It never really went away.  
John wished her a good night with a simple kiss on the cheek, a rather chaste gesture after all they had done today but Clara knew that he had chosen the cheek because of her, because he knew somehow what was on her mind. He always seemed to know her so well. Maybe giving in to him would be the right choice? Clara didn't doubt for a second that they would be happy. But at what cost?  
All the normal tasks like brushing her teeth or combing her hair or changing into her pyjama felt tedious tonight and her apartment seemed a lot more empty than it usually was and it felt too small and too big at the same time as she lay down in her bed to sleep. Yet she continued to feel restless with all the pros and cons of a relationship with John running through her head. It felt almost as if she had forgotten something important, like switching the light off or as if she had left on the oven, like something was missing. She turned on her side and outstretched her arm, but the bed next to her was empty. There was no one there, no chest to keep her warm, no hand to hold her and there never would be. Unless. . .  
Angrily she threw her duvet back. She put on her robe and her slippers, grabbed her key and headed out of her apartment, upstairs, and knocked on John's door. When he opened, only wearing his pyjama bottoms and a plain shirt, obviously ready to go to sleep, he seemed utterly surprised to see her and Clara didn't even care how he looked now with his tousled hair or how ridiculous the question mark pattern on his trousers was. She punched him softly in the shoulder.  
“I can't sleep! Are you happy now?!”  
“Ow, Clara! What's going on?” he asked in confusion, holding the spot where she had just hit him.  
“I want to sleep with you,” Clara said determinedly.  
John's eyebrows shot up and his mouth opened but he never made a sound.  
“Sorry, bad choice of words,” she mumbled, “I want to sleep _here_. In your bed. I can't stand to be alone right now. Not anymore.”  
Without questioning her further John opened the door a little wider to let her in and closed it when she came to stand in the middle of his room. Clara took a deep breath and tightened her robe around her body.  
“Are you alright?” John asked sincerely when he stopped next to her.  
Clara couldn't stop herself. The tears just came flowing over her cheeks as she realized her carefully built walls were crumbling down. John however seemed to understand as he closed his arms around her in a tight hug.  
“Congratulations,” she said through her tears, “You did it. Here I am. You made me want this and now you better take care of me!”  
Clara felt him running his fingers through her hair before he kissed her head.  
“That's all I've wanted since I came to this town,” John whispered, “I'm glad you decided to let me.”  
Slowly he released her from the embrace but held on tight to her arms, carefully pulling her in the direction of the bed. Clara smiled weakly at him as she climbed into bed next to John and he covered both of them with the duvet. John closed his arms around her and Clara curled up against his chest and somehow it felt better than anything else had felt in years, better than sleeping with him in the garage, better than dancing with John, better than his kisses. This was a whole different kind of intimacy, making her feel loved and wanted and protected and it didn't take her long to drift off into deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely comments :) And now that we had some smut, how about a little more angst, eh? :D


	16. Chapter 16

Clara was surprised to be woken by something tickling her face and when she opened her eyes she was confused for a moment, not knowing where she was until her eyes found John. He smiled at her and his hand was softly caressing her cheek.  
“Good morning,” he whispered.  
And then it all came back to her. The date. How she had showed up on his doorstep. It began to dawn on her what she had done. Clara leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips because all the words in her head couldn't express what she was thinking. Everything that happened after that would eventually turn into one of her fondest memories and she determined this morning as the moment she really fell for John as his gentle fingers relieved her of all her clothing and she undressed him in return, really seeing him for the first time. He mapped out every inch of her skin with his lips as if drinking in every little curve, every little scar and when Clara looked into his eyes, finding only admiration, she thought of every imperfection as a blessing as it held the attention of his kisses for just a moment longer.  
John moved inside of her so unlike the first time, gentle and agonizingly slow. It was intimate, it was private with no fear of getting caught and he took all the time in the world to find just the right spots to make her moan and writhe beneath him and Clara wrapped her arms and legs around him so as not to leave any space between them. She understood now what it felt like to be truly wanted and eventually fell apart in his hands. It was like everything else seemed to be this morning – slow but enduring and she closed her eyes, murmuring his name, glorying in ever second that it lasted right before Clara could feel John spill himself hot inside of her.  
He remained in her as she kissed him again and again, placing one wet kiss after another on his lips before John rolled on his back and Clara followed him, coming to rest half on top of him. Neither of them spoke for a very long time.

“What do we do now?” John asked eventually, his fingers busy in her hair, trying to smooth out the mess he had made of it.  
“What do you mean?” Clara looked up at him and now, in the morning light, he looked utterly beautiful to her.  
“I mean, how do you want this to be? Do you want us to be out in the open or wait and just act like friends while we're in public?”  
She hadn't even thought about that until John had brought it up.  
“We're together now. I've made my decision and I don't see why we should hide it.”  
“Because of how people talk about you. I might make it worse,” John lowered his gaze, “You might become _that woman that is dating the old guy_.”  
Clara turned around in bed so she faced him completely now. “I don't care,” she replied sincerely, “What the others say doesn't matter anymore. I have you. All I care about is what you think about me.”  
John's lips curled into a smile. “I think you're marvellous. I think you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I think this, you and me, is perfect.”  
Clara smiled back at him. “ _I_ think you've got this all wrong. _You_ are the best thing that could have ever happened to _me_. Thank you,” she paused, “For your persistence.”  
She leaned closer to kiss him again when they were suddenly very rudely interrupted by the sound of the alarm clock.  
John groaned and let his head fall back into the pillow. “There's that sound of reality that I hate so much.”  
“Oh, come on,” Clara struggled into a sitting position and placed a kiss on top of his nose, “It's just a few hours of work and afterwards we can do something fun. And I want to hear you play that song again, the one you wrote for me.”  
He raised his eyebrows and suddenly started laughing. “Look who just became the romantic.”  
“Well, you convinced me. And now you have me. Deal with it,” she shrugged.  
“Yes,” John laughed and closed his arms around her, pulling her back down again for another kiss, “Now that I have you I don't have to try so hard anymore.”  
“Oh, you're one of _that_ sort? You show up on a woman's doorstep, leave flowers or play songs and once you've got the girl it's back to cheap chocolates bought at the mom-and-pop store?”  
“I wouldn't dare,” John smiled at her. 

Eventually they made it out of the bed and Clara headed back to her own apartment to change into her work uniform. A smile was on her face as she walked back outside and John was already waiting for her there, waiting for her so they could walk to the diner together, hand in hand. Maybe John wasn't what she had been expecting, but he was exactly what she needed right now. Clara didn't care where their relationship would lead and right now she didn't even want to think about it. She just wanted to enjoy it.  
Before they turned around the corner John started to giggle.  
“Is something funny?” Clara asked, thinking she might have missed a joke.  
“People are looking. And it's funny. Can't say if they are surprised or genuinely shocked.”  
She shrugged. “Wanna give them something to _really_ look at?”  
“What do you have in m-”  
Clara didn't wait for him to finish his sentence as she pulled John down by the lapels of his jacket and pressed a kiss to his lips, her mouth almost swallowing him. Right now she wanted everyone to look at them, wanted everyone to see that she was with John and happy, to show them that despite the way they had been treating her the past couple of years they hadn't managed to break her. Clara had found love again and she didn't care what the rest of the world had to say about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the confusion there. I actually meant the angst that was in the beginning of chapter 15 :D And thank you all so much for the lovely comments :) This chapter is a bit shorter for one reason: after this we're going to make a little time jump and that would have been a bit much for one chapter. I can't promise that the next ones are gonna be entirely angst-free though *hides*


	17. Chapter 17

**Mid March 1960**

Clara smiled and leaned over the counter to place a kiss on John's lips.  
“Ugh, you two are disgusting, have I told you that?” Carlene rolled her eyes at them, “We serve _food_ here.”  
“And I have to get to work. Lonny is going to show me the file system today. I think he's very eager to retire soon,” John said and after another small peck from Clara he finally rose from his chair and turned his attention to Carlene, “Don't let her work too hard. Clara needs to be fit on Friday to see her parents.”  
“I _am_ fit,” Clara protested, “But I'm trying very hard to get really sick so I _don't_ have to see my dad and stepmonster on Friday.”  
“You just don't wanna tell them about me, admit it,” John cocked his eyebrows.  
“That is not the problem and I told you, you are more than welcome to come with me. See for yourself that my stepmother is terrible.”  
“I will if I get off work on time but we've got a few old cars coming in and we want to see what we can still use as spare parts.”  
“It's okay,” Clara said, “There is still time for you to meet my dad and at least this way I get to ease him into the idea that you're slightly older.”  
“Slightly?” Carlene asked, giggling. They both ignored her.  
“Anyway, if you get sick again you'll go home. Promise me!” John demanded strictly.  
“I won't get sick again. I'm not anywhere near your cooking now. I'll be fine.”  
“Alright,” John said and finally smiled at her before he bent down and placed a quick kiss to her forehead, “I'll see you tonight.”

After John had left the diner Clara gathered up his plate and mug to carry to the back of the diner when she caught Carlene looking at her.  
“What's wrong?” Clara asked in confusion.  
“I want the day off tomorrow so don't even think about getting sick!”  
Clara groaned in reply. “I'm not sick. John tried to make dinner last night, he failed. I wasn't feeling so well this morning but it's nothing. You'll have your day off, I promise.”  
“Are you sure? Cause you do look a bit pale,” her colleague insisted.  
“I'm fine,” she repeated and pushed her way past Carlene into the back of the diner.  
“Are you late?”  
“What?” Clara frowned.  
“I'm asking if you're with child,” Carlene raised her eyebrows, “You and John haven't exactly been subtle lately so it wouldn't surprise me.”  
Clara laughed nervously. “I'm not, really,” she replied sincerely, “We have been dating two months. That is way too early to be even thinking about kids.”  
“Good, cause you're right. It is too early. Besides, I doubt he'd wanna go through the trouble at his age,” Carlene commented as she took the plate out of Clara's hands and headed towards the kitchen.  
Clara shook her head and was ready to laugh the whole thing off. She and John had used protection.

Apart from that time that they hadn't. 

She felt as if suddenly all the blood had been drained from her head and the diner was spinning around her. Reaching for the door frame she quickly found her balance again but the thought in her head remained. _What if she was pregnant?_ What if something had gone wrong? What if that one time had been enough? What if Carlene was right and John really didn't want children? And, come to think of it, she actually was late. That alone wasn't proof of anything. Her cycle had been going haywire for years and she was used to that by now but what if. _What if._ She had been sick this morning, she had been feeling off on several mornings the week before. Oh God, what if she actually was pregnant.  
“Clara, are you _sure_ you're okay?” Carlene asked but Clara hardly heard her.  
Should she go over to the garage and tell John right now? No, Clara should see a doctor first. Maybe she was freaking out over nothing at all. And if he really didn't want children and she really was pregnant – would he leave her? Her fear of losing him immediately kicked in again but Clara decided to just take a deep breath. It was John. He wouldn't leave her, even if she was pregnant of which she wasn't even sure yet.  
“Clara?”  
“What if I am?” she asked her colleague in horror.  
“What if you are what?”  
“Pregnant! What do I do? You have kids, Carlene. Tell me, what do I do?”  
Carlene gave a weary sigh. “Rule number one – don't freak out. I'll give you the number of my doctor and you can call him,” her voice took on a much softer tone, “You'll be fine, Clara. Whatever happens.”

After Carlene had written down the number Clara had excused herself to the back of the diner to make the phone call from the office. She got an appointment for Wednesday. Two whole days of waiting were lying ahead of her, two whole days on which she couldn't tell John. It was going to be a nightmare but Clara decided to go through with it. If he didn't want children and she turned out to be not pregnant she'd have troubled him for no reason at all. And if he did want children an she turned out to be not pregnant she was running the risk of giving him hope for something that might never happen.  
The more time passed between the phone call and the end of her shift the surer Clara became that she wasn't actually pregnant at all. She was probably really coming down with something, the flu or a cold and she remembered a conversation from years back. When she had been with Daniel they had rarely used protection at all, mainly because neither of them would have minded children but also because the doctors had told her that because of her irregular cycle Clara would have problems conceiving, if it was possible for her at all. No, she couldn't be pregnant.

When John came around for dinner Clara had almost forgotten about everything. She had prepared his favourite meal and was about to fill their plates when he stepped into the kitchen and placed his arms around her from behind.  
“I've missed you today,” he whispered before he gently nipped her earlobe.  
Clara giggled. “Oh yes, cause we've been separated for a whole, what? 8 hours?”  
He turned her around in his embrace and kissed her lips hungrily, rubbing their lower bodies together.  
“Food's gonna get cold,” Clara breathed against his lips.  
“Let it.”  
“No, no, no,” she said, putting on a strict tone, “We are going to eat.”  
John reluctantly pulled away from her with a long sigh. He helped her fill their plates and carry them to the dining table where he poured them both a glass of wine while Clara sat down.  
“Yes, I admit, it looks a lot tastier when you cook. I should probably learn how to do this,” John admitted.  
“Or keep clear of the kitchen,” Clara joked, “Really, I don't mind cooking. I like it. And it's nice to cook for more than just one person.”  
John smiled at her and raised his glass, Clara followed his example.  
“To us,” he said.  
But when Clara put the glass to her mouth and smelled the wine she was suddenly hit by a wave of nausea. It was as if her stomach was turning around inside of her. Was this her body trying to tell her something? Or was this her subconscious thinking that she probably shouldn't drink until she knew for certain that she wasn't pregnant?  
“Are you alright, darling?” John asked.  
“Yeah,” Clara replied nervously and put the glass back down, “I think my stomach is still a bit sore from yesterday.”  
“I'm sorry,” he apologized quickly, “I promise I'll never cook again.”  
She smiled at him and prayed to God that he would stop asking questions. They had become so close in the past months that Clara found it hard to hide anything from him. Luckily she wouldn't have to for very long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the comments :D Let's see how the story moves on from here, shall we?


	18. Chapter 18

Clara found it hard to sit still in the waiting room, impatiently jiggling her legs until she finally heard one of the assistants call out her name. She was led into a sterile room with a desk, two chairs and an examination table and sat down reluctantly. Telling herself to keep calm Clara took a series of deep breaths. A few moments later a friendly looking man entered the room who seemed to be just a few years away from his retirement. He greeted Clara with a firm handshake.  
“Clara Oswald,” he read from a sheet of paper that she had filled out earlier in the waiting room while he took the seat at the other side of the desk, “What can I do for you?”  
Clara inhaled sharply. “I, erm, I think it might be possible that I'm pregnant.”  
“Okay,” the doctor smiled at her, “How long has it been since your last period?”  
“That was around Christmas,” Clara replied, “But it's usually very irregular. Missing a month or two happens.”  
He nodded. “And when do you think you and your, erm,” the doctor looked back down at the piece of paper.  
“I'm not married. Double checking won't change my marital status,” Clara said defensively, “I think it must have happened in early January.”  
The doctor smiled at her again. “There is a laboratory test that can be done for which we need a urine sample and you will get the results in a couple of days.”  
“A couple of days?!” Clara blurted out in panic, “I can't wait that long! I need to know now!”  
The doctor sighed. “I can understand that you are impatient but-”  
“No, you _don't_ understand,” she said angrily, “I can't tell my boyfriend unless I know for sure and I can't keep this a secret from him either. _I need to know!_ ”  
“Well,” the man paused, “I guess I could try hearing for a heartbeat. If the baby was conceived in early January there is tiny, little chance we might be able to hear that but if we don't hear anything you could still be pregnant. It's too early to be sure.”  
“Try it then,” Clara told him.  
“Have you been experiencing any of the common pregnancy symptoms? Dizziness? Nausea, especially in the mornings? Do you feel more tired than usual? Craving or aversion of certain foods?”  
Clara tried to think back the past few weeks. She had been feeling dizzy and nauseous on occasions, yes, and she was also tired although she had so far blamed that on her nightly activities with John. And she did hate the smell of the diner food lately, that was why she had taken up cooking at home.  
Slowly Clara nodded.  
“Alright,” the doctor said, “I will try to hear for a heartbeat, but like I said, it is highly unlikely we will be able to hear anything. Please, uncover your stomach and sit on the table.”  
Clara untucked her blouse from her skirt and walked over to sit on the examination table while the doctor reached for his stethoscope. A few moments later he knelt down next to her and pressed the cold metal onto her skin.  
“Relax,” the man told her, “Just breathe normally.”  
Clara did as she was told and closed her eyes, trying very hard to relax but failing. There was no way she could relax now. Not until she knew for sure. A couple of days. She couldn't wait any longer.  
The doctor let out a small laugh.  
“What?” Clara asked immediately, “ _What is it?_ ”  
“This is really rare, Miss Oswald. I can hear it. It is very faint but it's definitely there,” the doctor took the stethoscope out of his ears and came to stand next to her, “Congratulations, I am very sure that you are with child.”  
“ _What?!_ ”  
“Yes, with your symptoms and the faint but definitely existing second heartbeat I can say that you are indeed pregnant,” he told her with a sincere smile on his face.  
Clara frowned and started shaking her head. “That can't be. I've been to different doctors a few years back and they all told me I would have problems conceiving at all. My late fiancé and I tried for years and nothing happened. I can't be pregnant. Not after just one time.”  
“Sometimes one time is all it takes. And as the heartbeat of your child has just proven miracles _can_ happen sometimes.”

Clara only vaguely registered everything else that the doctor told her. He also took her urine sample to send to the lab just to be absolutely sure and asked if she had a telephone.  
“We have a phone at work,” she replied absent-mindedly, “But don't tell anyone else there. Just me.”  
“Of course, we will not give out any information to another person,” he reassured her.  
The doctor explained a lot of things to her about the pregnancy and the development of the child, about follow-up appointments and about giving birth eventually and Clara only kept nodding, all the while thinking about how on earth she was going to break this to John. What if he really didn't want children? He had had children already and he had lost them in the war. He probably wouldn't even want this. What if he left her? What the thing inside of her would ruin everything? Clara had stopped picturing herself as a mother a long time ago and it seemed like a cruel joke to her that she would get pregnant at this moment in her life. 

After parking her motorcycle right next to the garage she knocked but didn't wait for someone to answer. Inside Clara only found Raymond tinkering with an old engine.  
“Is John around?” she asked without greeting him first.  
“Oh,” Raymond uttered as he looked up from the car, “Hey Clara. John's in the office with Lonny.”  
“Can I go through?” she asked, pointing at the small door, “Or is this a bad time?”  
“No, I'm sure it's fine. Is everything okay?”  
“Yeah,” Clara replied weakly and headed towards the door.  
“Are you sure? You look like you've seen a ghost.”  
“I'm fine,” she repeated in an almost robotic voice as she made her way through and after turning around a few corners she found herself standing in the office where John and Lonny were just bending over some paperwork.  
“Ah, hello Miss Oswald,” the old man greeted her in a friendly manner but her eyes were fixed on John and she saw how the worry immediately rose up in him just by looking at his face.  
“Clara? Is everything alright?”  
“No,” she breathed, “I need to talk to you. Now.”  
Lonny cleared his throat and got up from his office chair. “I think I'll go check on Ray's progress. Take your time.”

After he had left the two of them alone in the office John immediately stepped up to Clara and gently placed his hands on her shoulders.  
“What's wrong, darling? You seem a bit shaken up.”  
“I am more than a bit shaken up,” she admitted.  
“Okay,” John eyed her suspiciously, “Now you're scaring me. What happened?”  
Clara took a deep breath. “Promise me you won't freak out. Because I am already freaking out and I can't do this if you freak out as well.”  
John laughed nervously. “Clara, darling, what could possibly be so bad? Is something wrong with your family? Did anyone get hurt? Was anyone rude to you?”  
“No,” Clara said immediately, “Nothing like that.”  
“Then tell me. I promise, I won't get mad or freak out. Just say it.”  
Clara looked at him, into his eyes that were so full of confusion and worry and she decided she would do as he had told her and just say it. It wouldn't be so bad. It was only John, her boyfriend and her best friend. “I went to the doctor's office today and he said that he is pretty sure that I am,” Clara paused, “Pregnant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the sweet comments and messages :) I'm so glad you love this story!


	19. Chapter 19

“John, please say something,” Clara begged him.   
He looked into into her big, sad eyes and the thoughts in his head were running wild. Pregnant. Clara was pregnant. He was going to be a father once again. He was going to have a baby with Clara.  
“John?”  
Letting out a soft laugh John stepped back until his back rested against the desk. “I have to admit I did not expect that.”  
“I know it's bad. I know it's too early. I know we should have used protection from the start but I didn't think back then and I thought I couldn't even get pregnant and, _oh God_ , this is so bad,” Clara blurted out quickly.  
“Bad?” John's eyes widened, “Who said anything about bad? Clara, we're going to have a baby!”  
He smiled at her but to his surprise she didn't smile back. Her face was a mask of confusion and horror and fright. She seemed actually terrified. Without further thinking John pushed himself away from the table and wrapped his arms around her, trying very hard not to squeeze her too hard although he did want to.  
“My Clara,” he said lovingly, “My sweet Clara. We'll have a baby. A beautiful, little baby with my hair and your eyes and hopefully your cooking skills. She is going to be so gorgeous. Or he.”  
“ _How?_ ” Clara asked desperately, her face pressed against his chest, “I did not sign up for this. I didn't even think I could have children. I'm not prepared!”  
“Don't you worry about that. We will manage.”  
And suddenly Clara began sobbing against his chest. John closed his arms a little tighter around her and kissed her hair.  
“Let's go home, darling. I'll take the rest of the day off. I'll make us some tea and we can talk,” he took a step back to be able to look at her, “Don't worry. We'll sort this out.”  
Clara sniffed and finally nodded. John couldn't help himself. He bent down and pressed a kiss to her lips first and then took her hand into his own and placed another kiss on the back of it. He was happy, absolutely and undeniably happy. He would be a father again. He would have a family with Clara and even though he hadn't really considered it before it seemed to be exactly what he wanted. She was right – it was early for their relationship, but that didn't mean that it couldn't be wonderful.  
John gently dried her tears with his thumb, smiling once again and led her through the garage. Lonny gave John the rest of the day off after he had told him that Clara wasn't feeling well and he needed to take her home.   
Clara didn't speak on the way there and she even ignore people greeting her. John was pleased to see that since they had started dating people had begun treating Clara better than they had before though that would probably change once they knew she was pregnant. She was an unmarried woman after all.

Clara sat down on her bed and when John came back from the kitchen with two large mugs of tea she had covered herself in blankets. Thankfully she accepted the tea from him and wrapped her hands around the mug.  
“How are you feeling?” John asked her sincerely.   
“I'm scared,” she admitted.  
“I know that, honey, but you don't have to be. It's going to be fine,” he told her, “But what about your health? What did the doctor say? Are you and the baby okay?”  
Clara nodded. “He said my symptoms are normal and I'm lucky the sickness and dizziness aren't very strong. He was surprised he could already hear a heartbeat.”  
“That's good, isn't it?” John asked excitedly, “Believe me, Clara, it's going to be just fine.”  
She turned around to look at him. “You are really happy about this, aren't you?”  
A smile spread across his face. “Yes,” he admitted, “Yes, I am. I know there are a lot of things we have to talk about, a lot of things we're going to have to organize but we can do this.”  
“John, we have only been dating two months. We've known each other for a little more than three. How exactly are we going to manage this? How will I know that you won't back out and leave me? What if something happens to you? I can't do this on my own!”  
“Listen to me,” John said strictly, “We are in this together. Do not for a second think that I would abandon you. Whatever happens, Clara, I will be there for the two of you. You have to believe me.”  
Clara nodded slowly.  
“I will take care of you, you'll see. I promise. Your only worry now is that you and the child are safe and sound. Leave the rest to me. I don't want you to worry about anything else.”  
John raised his hand to cup her cheek and Clara nuzzled against his palm.   
“I should move in here with you,” John said determinedly after a while, “We've basically been living together the past two months anyway and if we save the rent on a second apartment we can afford something bigger sooner.”  
“Yeah,” she replied after a moment, “Yeah, you're right.”  
John suddenly started chuckling. “And I should probably learn a few nursery songs on the guitar.”  
Finally Clara started laughing as well. She set her mug down and wrapped her arms around his waist, snuggling closer against John with a sigh.   
“You are going to be the best dad and in the world,” she told him, “And I, I'll just be a mother who has no idea what she's doing.”  
“Stop worrying,” John said, closing his arms around her, “You will figure it out. I was a mess the first time I became a father. I was panicking. But it all turned out fine.”  
“I hope it will.”  
John pressed a kiss to her head.  
“I think we should wait until we tell people,” he suddenly said, “I don't want them to start talking badly about you again.”  
“I'm an unmarried, pregnant woman. They will find out eventually and then they will talk. There's nothing you can do about that.”  
“We'll see,” he paused and suddenly John thought of something, “I'm coming with you on Friday to meet your father.”  
“I wasn't going to tell him about the child just yet,” Clara replied.  
“It doesn't matter. He should get to know me before you tell him.”  
“Alright,” Clara agreed, “If it's that important to you.”

 

The next day at work Clara was immediately approached by Carlene.  
“So, what did the doctor say?” her colleague demanded to know, “Are you with child?!”  
“Shhh!” Clara hushed her immediately and pulled her into the back of the diner, “No one needs to know just yet.”  
“So you are,” Carlene determined.  
“Yes, I'm still waiting for the results of the lab test but the doctor was pretty sure,” she admitted when she was certain no one could hear them, “But, please, don't tell anyone.”  
“I won't, I promise,” Carlene replied and suddenly a flash of concern washed over her face, “Did you tell John yet? How did he take it?”  
Clara laughed nervously. “He is excited. And happy. Last night I just wanted to sleep and he didn't stop making plans. We've decided to move in together and he just went on and on about where the cradle should go and things like that.”  
“That's good, Clara,” Carlene said sincerely, “My husband freaked out when I told him about the first one. He didn't acknowledge it for three days straight! You're lucky!”  
“Yeah, I guess so.”  
“Are you gonna marry him?”  
“Carlene,” Clara sighed, “I,. . . I don't _know_. He hasn't even asked me. And there are so many other things to worry about that marriage is pretty low down on that list right now.”  
Her colleague nodded understandingly. Then the phone interrupted the silence. Clara took a deep breath.  
“I have a feeling that that's for me,” she said and she was right.   
The doctor's office was calling to tell her that the result of her test had just come in and now there was no doubt any longer. Clara was definitely with child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your very sweet comments and I am sorry for the cliffhanger :D


	20. Chapter 20

“We are way too early,” Clara protested as they got off the bus in Albany, “I told you we'd arrive at least an hour before dinner. Now we'll have to help them cook.”  
“What if I told you that being early was planned?” John asked as he took her hand.  
Clara glared at him in reply. “I don't want to spend unnecessary time with my stepmonster. My dad will not even be home from work.”  
John giggled. “Clara, I haven't been completely honest with you. I wanted it to be a surprise but I guess it's time to tell you now. I'm not taking you directly to your parents' place. There's something I wanted to do before that.”  
Her head shot around and to Clara's disappointment John's features were unreadable. “Where are you taking me?” she asked warily, “What have you planned?”  
“A surprise,” he whispered before he bent down and kissed her cheek, “Now, come on.”

John led her around a couple of corners and Clara got more and more confused the longer they walked until he finally came to halt in front of a jewellery shop. He turned around to look at her with a smile on his face.  
“Do you want to go inside?” he asked.  
“I don't know?” Clara smiled back, though her reaction was more of confusion than of joy, “Depends. What are we doing here?”  
“I'm going to buy you something nice and since I don't trust my own taste I'd rather you picked it yourself. You're the one who's going to wear it after all.”  
“Oh, John, you don't have to do that,” Clara replied immediately, “We've got better things to save up for than jewellery.”  
The smile was back on his face. “No, I think you'll find this is not so unimportant.”  
Clara growled in defeat. “You won't give up, will you?”  
“Not a chance.”  
Clara entered the small shop with John following on her heels. He greeted the woman working behind the counter.  
“Hello, the name is John Smith. We spoke on the phone earlier,” he told her.  
The woman smiled at both of them and shortly after bent down to retrieve a large velvet box from underneath the counter. She placed it in front of them and, to Clara's surprise, she then left the room. Clara waited for a moment but the woman didn't return.  
“John, what's going on?” she asked him in confusion.  
He reached for the velvet box and opened it in front of Clara, revealing a collection of engagement rings. Once her brain had processed what was about to happen she looked back up at John.  
“Now it's my turn to say I didn't expect that,” Clara breathed nervously.  
“I know,” John said sincerely, “And I know you probably think it's rushed but I have been thinking about it since you told me about the child. I know you didn't want any of this, I know that none of it was planned but I need you to know that I am serious about it. I want to be there for you and the child and I want you to become my wife. I want to do this properly because that's what you deserve. I don't want people pointing at you and talking behind your back because you're pregnant and unmarried. I can't do that to you, not after what you've been through. And I insisted on coming today because I wanted to ask for your father's blessing. I just wanted to know what you think about it first.”  
Clara had no idea what to think if she was perfectly honest.  
“It's not that I don't want any of it,” she said softly, “I _wanted_ it. It's just that I had given up on being a wife and a mother and I never expected it to happen. And it's all happening so fast.”  
“If you need more time you can have it,” John told her, “I don't want to pressure you. But Clara, you deserve to be happy. You know, I've been thinking. We could save up during the pregnancy and until the child has grown a little and then we could move to a bigger city, somewhere with a college. You could go back and become a teacher like you've always wanted. You said you could finish your degree in three semesters. Well, even if it takes four I wouldn't mind. I would find a way to get us through somehow. And then, with both of us working again, we could buy a small house somewhere nice. I want you to have it all. Everything you've ever wanted. _If_ you want it _with me_.”  
Clara considered his words and looked at him staring at her expectantly.  
“You are serious about all of this, aren't you? You really want that? You're not just doing it because you feel obligated?”  
“I _am_ obligated but that doesn't change the fact that I really want you to be my wife.”  
Clara took a deep breath. “Well, seeing as I am not getting rid of you any time soon we might as well make it official.”  
His eyes widened. “Is that a yes?”  
She smiled and nodded. “It's a yes.”  
John immediately bent down, closed his arms around her waist and pulled her closer for a kiss. Clara let herself fall against his chest and parted her lips for him. This was the man she was going to kiss until death do them part. John had been her best friend, then her boyfriend and now, at this moment, he became her fiancé, a step that should have scared her but somehow didn't. It just felt like the pieces of a puzzle slowly coming together.  
“Now,” John said as he gently pulled away from her, “Choose a ring.”  
Clara exhaled sharply and turned her attention toward the large velvet box, “I don't want anything too fancy. Oh,” she paused as her eyes fell on a simple, engraved ring with a small stone at the centre, “I quite like this one.”  
John plucked the ring she was pointing at out of the holder. “Are you sure? It's pretty basic. I'm pretty sure I can afford something a little better.”  
“No, I like it,” Clara insisted and held out her hand, “And it's not basic, it's _classic_.”  
“Well, if you put it this way,” John said and slipped the ring onto her finger. It was the perfect fit and Clara had to admit she really loved the sight of it on her hand.  
“I love it,” she said with a smile.  
John seemed pleased with himself. “Good. That's what I was hoping for,” he said, “Now, let's pay and then I'm going to get my head chopped off by your dad for wanting to marry his daughter.”  
“Not as long as I've got a say in that.”

Clara got increasingly nervous the closer they came to her parents' house. She could vividly remember the first time she had brought Daniel home and her father had been anything but excited. Somehow Clara doubted that it would be different with John. She wasn't dooming herself to a life as an outcast with him, but since he was significantly older Clara thought her dad might not be instantly taken with him.  
“Please, put the ring back in the box,” John begged her when they stopped in front of the house.  
“I will marry you with or without his permission, so it really doesn't matter,” Clara insisted.  
“It matters to me. I want to make a good impression.”  
“Fine,” Clara groaned and took the ring off her finger, placing it back inside the box, “There. Happy?”  
“Yes,” John let out a sigh and kissed her forehead, “Please don't let him kill me before the wedding.”  
Clara rang the bell and a few moments later her father opened the door. The smile on his face froze when his gaze wandered from Clara to John.  
“Hello Dad,” Clara said nervously, “I'm here at last. And so is John. I've mentioned he might join us.”  
“Uhm, yes,” he spluttered, “Please, come in.”

After stepping inside Clara and John sat down at the already set dinner table and endured a long moment of silence during which her father and his wife were talking in the kitchen, undoubtedly about John and his age. Under the table Clara reached for John's hand that she found resting on his thigh and she squeezed it gently.  
Over dinner they exchanged only small talk. How was Clara's job, what did John do for a living, how did a Scotsman end up in Texas. John outlined his history for her parents but refrained from going into detail. Finally, once they had finished dinner, Clara's father decided to voice his opinion.  
“Well, I guess Clara could have done worse,” he said grumpily, “At least you appear to be an honest and hard working man.”  
“I am, sir,“ John replied in a friendly manner, “And I intend to take very good care of Clara. I want to do right by her, that's why I came here tonight. To ask your permission.”  
“My permission for what?” her dad asked, slightly confused, “She is old enough to make her own decisions.”  
“I know,” John said, “But I would still like your blessing before Clara and I get married.”  
“ _Married?_ ” her father spat, “You've known each other for a few months! What's the rush? Why don't you just live in sin for a while? I know some people who do that. Are you pregnant, Clara?!”  
“Dad, please!”  
“We have our reasons, sir,” John told him calmly, “We talked about it. I wouldn't marry Clara if I wasn't absolutely certain that I could support her or I wasn't sure whether we would last. But I am.”  
“Dad, just give him your blessing. John won't stop. Trust me, he is the most persistent person I know.”  
Her father turned towards Clara. “Has he talked you into this? Is this _really_ what you want?”  
“It _is_ what I want, Dad. John is making an effort. Please, just do the same,” Clara begged him.  
Her father took a long, deep breath and eventually he got up and left the dining room.  
“What's happening?” John whispered nervously.  
“I have no idea,” Clara replied. 

“You're from Scotland, you say?” her dad's voice came from the other room just before he appeared in the doorway, holding up a bottle, “I've got a bottle of Scotch here. Glenfiddich, that's the good stuff, right?”  
John raised his eyebrows and shrugged slightly. “I suppose.”  
“I tell you what,” her father said as he placed the bottle on the table, “You beat me in a drinking game, you have my blessing to marry my daughter.”  
Clara rolled her eyes at him but before she could say anything John had agreed to the deal.  
“Oh, please,” she said, making her annoyance audible, “This is childish! I'll marry John with or without your blessing.”  
“You can join in if you like,” her dad offered her the bottle.  
“No, thanks, I'll pass,” Clara replied grumpily, crossed her arms in front of her chest and let herself fall back against the chair. She already regretted this evening very, very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so, so, sooooo much for the sweet comments :)


	21. Chapter 21

“God, you're heavy,” Clara complained as they walked outside – if what they did could even be called walking since John was leaning on her with almost his full weight and she was practically dragging him along.  
“Watch the step!” she warned him but he stumbled right over it and both of them crashed into the nearest fence. Clara was glad to have called a taxi because the last thing she wanted to do was drag his drunk ass all the way to the bus station.  
John grinned at her. “'n the bright side,” he drawled, “Ah thiiiiiiiink yer dad likes me now. Got 'is blessin' after all.”  
“I think in his state Dad would have liked anyone,” Clara replied coldly. She was about to let go of him, seeing as he was propped up safely against the fence but John was holding on tight to her waist, drawing her closer to him. When she looked at John she found him still grinning at her.  
“What's so funny?” she asked and suddenly felt her anger slowly fade away.  
“You,” he said, swaying a little in her direction, “I. . . I _love_ you.”  
A smile spread on Clara's face before she rolled her eyes again. “I love you, too, you big, drunk idiot.”  
A sloppy kiss landed on her lips and before she could balance the weight of them both they landed with her back against the fence. Clara sighed in defeat against his mouth and decided their current position was safe enough for both of them until the taxi arrived. At least there was nothing he could trip over or fall into.  
“Sorry,” John mumbled, “Just wan'ed yer dad tae like me.”  
“It's okay,” Clara reassured him, “I'm sure he likes you at least a little. And look, our taxi is here.”

Somehow Clara managed to walk John to the car and he fell groggily into the back seat before she sat down next to him. She gave the driver their address and then turned her attention back to John. Five minutes ago he had told her that he loved her. And she had said it back. Clara had expected the first time they would say these words to be a bit. . . more and yet, what could she really expect after already being pregnant with his child and an accepted proposal? At this point it just felt utterly natural.  
Suddenly Clara was very much aware of John's hand that was softly tickling the skin of the inside of her thigh. She turned around to look at him and realized that he knew exactly what his hand was doing.  
“John,” she whispered, “We're in a taxi.”  
“I know,” he replied and bent over until their lips met again. He was kissing her hungrily now, leaving her with little doubt as to his intentions and his hand slid further up under her skirt, teasing her through the fabric of her knickers. She had almost moaned at the touch of him.  
Quickly she closed her legs and pulled away from him.  
“When we get home, okay?”  
His mouth didn't leave her for long but instantly wandered back, now nipping at her earlobe.  
“You look sooooo hot, darlin',” he breathed into her ear and his hand reached for hers, pulling it over to his side and setting it down over his crotch.  
Now even the little doubt she had had was gone as he was rock solid under her palm and Clara already started to miss the feeling of his fingers against her clit that had been tending to the itching feeling she was beginning to get. Reminding herself that they weren't alone in this car Clara quickly pulled her hand away.  
“We'll be home soon,” she told him, “Then I'll be all yours.”

The taxi held right in front of their doorstep and Clara paid the driver and generous tip just in case he had been unfortunate enough to witness any of John's advances. Then she wrapped her arm around his waist and together they made their way upstairs, slowly but surely because now John wasn't only staggering in all possible directions, now his hands were also providing a distraction as well. As soon as they were alone in the hallway his mouth was back against her neck, kissing and sucking his way up to her lips and one of his hands was trying very hard to reach under her skirt. The combination made it very hard to climb the stairs at a normal pace.  
“John,” Clara giggled, “Keep your fingers to yourself for two more minutes.”  
“Can't,” he said as they finally reached the right floor and he pressed her against the nearest wall with the entire weight of his body.  
Clara let out an involuntary moan as he sucked her throat hard and was starting to shamelessly rub himself against her.  
“God, darling, I wanna fuck ye,” he said in a low voice that seemed to shoot right through her. Clara couldn't believe he had such a dirty mouth and had never used it so far. But she still came back to her senses.  
“Let's go inside, John,” she said and used a moment he was unsteady on his feet to duck out of the position he had been holding her in.  
Clara quickly drew the keys from her purse but before she even had the chance to put them anywhere near the lock John was on top of her again, pressing her face first against the door. She couldn't help but notice how his erection pressed firmly against her arse.  
“John,” she tried to sound strict but her voice was very weak, “We should go inside.”  
Then his hand was on her leg again, making its way under her skirt and Clara felt powerless to stop it because that was exactly where she wanted it to be. With a skill quite unusual for his state he slid his hand past her knickers and began sliding his finger between her wet folds. Clara gasped when they finally pushed inside her.  
“John,” she moaned, “What if someone catches us.”  
She wanted him to stop so they could go inside and carry on and yet she didn't want him to stop at all. Clara started grinding against his fingers as he added another one to the game and pressed her lips together to muffle her moans, all the while thinking about what was rubbing hard against her bum and him kissing her neck. She wanted him to talk, like he had done earlier. Normally John was too much of a gentleman to use any sort of dirty words but right now he seemed more than willing to and somehow it was putting her in exactly the right mood.  
“John,” she panted heavily, “Tell me. What would you like to do to me?”  
She groaned as his fingers dug deeper and was suddenly very glad that no one else was living on this floor.  
“I wanna make ye come for me,” he whispered into her ear, his breathing rapid.  
“Yeah,” she keened, “Doing that just fine. _Oh God_.” She was starting to have trouble keeping her voice down as his fingers were pushing faster inside of her. “What else?”  
John let out a groan. “Darlin', I wanna be inside ye. 'm so hard for ye.”  
Before Clara started losing control she quickly raised the hand that was holding the key to the lock and turned it around. They both toppled over instantly as the door opened but Clara was able to catch her balance at the last second. John however fell straight to the floor.  
“Oh dear, I'm so sorry,” she quickly closed the door, switched on the light and knelt down next to him to see if he was okay but John was only laughing before he pulled her down on top of him. They kissed each other fiercely and Clara pressed herself further down on his crotch.  
John groaned again. “God, please. I need ye,” he begged under a moan, thrusting his hips up to create more friction between them and Clara didn't need to hear any more.  
Swiftly she unbuttoned his trousers and pulled them down just far enough. He was fully hard and leaking already and Clara was aching to have him inside of her. She didn't even bother undressing, she just pulled her knickers aside and lowered herself on top of him, right there on the corridor carpet just a few steps away from their bed.  
John soon grabbed her by the waist and turned them both around on the floor, burying himself inside her as she wrapped her legs around him.  
Clara didn't bother muffling her moans any longer and she couldn't have even if she had wanted to as he almost completely pulled out each time just to fill her up again with his full length at an increasing speed.  
“ _Mhhh_ , harder,” she whimpered, one of her hands buried in his hair, the other clawing into the skin of his arse. Clara cried out in her frenzy as he did so and at the same time scraped his teeth along the sensitive skin of her neck with a throaty moan. She just loved the way he was losing control, not minding how the rug beneath her was burning against her back.  
Clara could feel herself fall apart, her breath quickening and every time he moved inside of her it just felt sweeter. She purposefully clenched her muscles around him. His response was a deep and carnal sound that vibrated against her chest as he took her even more desperately and finally she came, trying to claw her nails deeper into his skin but losing her grip in the sweaty surface as the waves of her orgasm hit her and she cried out in ecstasy.  
“Fuck, darlin',” John moaned under his ragged breath, lifting her hips up to bury himself deeper, his thrusts growing more and more erratic as he was drawing closer to the finish line. Eventually his movements slowed down and came to a complete halt as he came inside of her, his eyes closed and Clara's name on his lips.  
He pulled out and slumped down next to her, his breathing fast and heavy and both of them needed a moment to catch their breath. It was Clara who got up first and offered John her hand to help him up. He was still swaying a little as he wrapped his arms around her waist, though from the drinking game against her father or the power of his orgasm Clara couldn't tell as she herself felt slightly wobbly on her legs.  
“How about we do this aaaaaalll night?” John suggested, whispering into her ear before his lips sank to her skin again.  
Clara grinned at him. “Fine by me, as long as we do it in bed. And without clothes.”  
“ _Oh yes_ ,” he moaned and pressed their lips together and Clara gently removed his jacket.  
She worked her way through the buttons of his shirt while carefully pushing him backwards in the direction of the bed. Once she had finished stripping him off his shirt she pushed him down to sit on the bed to pull at his trousers and John lay back, watching her intently. Reaching for the hemline of her dress Clara quickly pulled it over her head and threw it on the floor where the rest of their clothing was piling up. Her stockings proved to be more difficult and by the time she had stripped out of them as well she looked up to find John with his eyes closed.  
“John?” she asked gently but the only reply was a soft snoring from his direction.  
Clara smiled to herself and she walked back to where she had dropped her purse. The little box was still inside it and she opened it, retrieving her engagement ring and slipping it back onto her finger. Clara took the time to admire it for a long moment, a smile stuck to her face the entire time. Soon she was going to be Mrs Smith and right now she couldn't imagine anything better than becoming his wife. Looking at him sleeping on the bed she felt nothing but love for John.  
After switching off the light Clara walked back to their bed and curled up next to John who only gave a low grunt in response but quickly resumed snoring. She covered them both with the duvet and sighed happily, soon falling asleep with a warm, happy feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all sooooooooooooooooooooo much for the sweet comments :) And I hope you've all got your AC on now.


	22. Chapter 22

“Somebody kill me,” John groaned, waking her up the following morning, “I am dead? Did your father kill me? Is this what it feels like?”  
Clara giggled softly and slid her hand across his naked chest, pulling herself closer to him.  
“That is the punishment for agreeing to silly games with my father,” she said with a laugh underneath her voice. After scrambling on top of him Clara placed a long kiss on his lips and admired his features for quite some time.  
“I love you,” Clara finally said, smiling at him.  
John closed his eyes and let out another groan. “Oh no. I said that last night, didn't I?”  
“Yup.”  
“I'm so sorry, Clara, that is _not_ how I wanted you to hear those words from me. I'm-” he paused and his eyes flew open. Clara could see the horror in them. “Oh God, the things I said to you. I'm so sorry. I really shouldn't have-”  
“John,” Clara still smiled at him, “It's fine. Everything's fine. You were sweet and I really like your dirty mouth. You should use it more often.”  
John covered his face in his hands but Clara quickly pulled them away, forcing him to look at her. “You should stop being the gentleman once in a while.”  
He took her hand in his and placed a soft kiss to the back before he noticed something and finally smiled.  
“You're wearing your ring,” John noted.  
“Yes,” Clara giggled, for a moment admiring it on her finger, “My dad knows. He gave us his blessing. You won't get me to take it off again.”  
John cleared his throat. “What your dad said last night,” he paused, “That I talked you into it. Is that true? Cause if this isn't what you want, then we can-”  
“Stop right there,” Clara said strictly, “You never talked me into doing anything I didn't want. It's true, you're persistent, but I wanted it. When you asked me out on a date I wanted it, I was just scared and I'm glad that you kept asking until I found the courage to agree. I accepted your proposal cause it's what I want. I really want to be your wife.”  
Clara laughed when she thought about it.  
“I never thought I'd be this happy again and the last two months were some of the happiest in my entire life, all because of you. I want that to last. I feel like I've only been waiting for you to show up, like this was meant for me from the start, so it doesn't matter if we get married now or in 6 months or in 3 years, the result is the same. What matters is that we're together.”  
John reached behind her head and pulled her down for a kiss.  
“How does a wedding in four weeks sound?” he asked once they parted again.  
Clara grinned at him. “Sounds perfect.”  
“Great,” John said and suddenly he started to get up.  
“Wait, where are you going?” she asked in confusion, “I have the day off. I thought we could just stay in bed and. . . well. . . continue where we left off last night?”  
“That would be nice,” John sighed, holding his probably still hurting head, “Unfortunately the condition of me being able to go to your family dinner yesterday was that I promised Lonny I'd catalogue the new spare parts today.”  
“ _Oh_ ,” Clara pouted.  
“But you can come over later if you want to,” his face suddenly lit up as he reached for some clothes and began putting them on, “There is something I'd like to show you.”  
“Uhm, okay,” she replied, “I guess I'll bring lunch.”  
“I love you,” John grinned at her before he bent down to kiss her once again.

 

* * *

 

John had just finished polishing the hood of the car when there was a knock on the garage door and Clara stepped inside.  
“Hey darling,” he greeted her, “I'm almost done for today.”  
“Done with what?” Clara asked, smiling as she stepped closer.  
John nodded in the direction of the car. “What do you think of it?”  
He watched as Clara's eyes wandered over the vehicle and she seemed quite a bit confused.  
“It's a car,” she eventually replied.  
“Yes, but what do you think of it?” he inquired excitedly.  
“Uhm,” Clara paused, “Is there something special about it? Can it fly?”  
“Not yet,” John joked, “I was planning to add that feature later.”

When Clara still didn't seem to understand John sighed and decided to just tell her.  
“It's _our_ car, Clara,” he told her, “Lonny offered it to me for a fair price if I patch it up all by myself. I figured we would need something to get us from A to B that has more than two wheels.”  
Clara's mouth fell open as she looked from the car back to John but she didn't make a sound. Instead she kept staring at him.  
“Okay, I'm going to be honest. I don't feel comfortable with you riding a motorbike in your condition. I know, you'll think I'm too protective but a car is so much safer. Besides, you can hardly transport a child on a motorcycle and all the things we need to get before the child is born. A car is just much more practical,” he explained as Clara started walking up to him.  
“Are you finished?” she asked with a smile.  
John cocked an eyebrow. “I think so?”  
“Good,” Clara said, nodding, “The car is great. It's a wonderful idea and I love that you're doing all of this.”  
Clara wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug and John couldn't help but pull her closer. Seeing her so happy meant the world to him.  
“You'll see,” he whispered, “Everything is going to be just fine. We will manage this. The marriage, the baby, everything. We're going to be a wonderful, happy, little family, the three of us.”  
“Yes,” Clara replied and John knew that she was smiling against his chest, “I'm starting to believe that, too.”  
“Now, there is the question of your work-”  
“I am not quitting my job,” Clara said determinedly, “At least not yet. I'm not even showing and I will work for at least as long as I can hide it or pass it off as weight gain. After that we'll see.”  
John sighed. “Alright, as long as you don't overdo it. Your health comes first.”  
“I know,” Clara whispered against his chest, “I love you.”  
“I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all soooooooooo much for your comments :)


	23. Chapter 23

**Mid April 1960**

“ _Damn!_ ”  
John heard Clara cursing in the living room and he left the kitchen immediately to see what was wrong. He found her standing next to the bed, trying to close the buttons on her work uniform – and obviously failing. He couldn't help but laugh at the sight of it. Clara had managed to close the uniform just fine, save for the three top buttons.  
“Stop laughing, this is serious!” Clara warned him, “I can't go to work like _this_.”  
John smiled mischievously. He'd be a liar if he told her he didn't like the changes her body was going through. “Not in your trade, no. Just ask them to give you a bigger uniform, darling.”  
“I already got a new size two weeks ago,” she frowned, looking down on her breasts that just wouldn't fit into the dress any longer, “The bump I can handle but they just keep growing.”  
“Yeah,” John giggled, softly wrapping his arms around Clara's waist, “I've noticed.”  
He bent down, bringing his mouth to her neck, trailing it with kisses all the way down to her breasts. Clara moaned under his touch, though whether it was in arousal or annoyance he didn't know. Sometimes one emotion quickly followed the other.  
“Don't kiss me when I'm mad,” Clara protested weakly but her hand buried in his hair, leading his head where she wanted it.  
“Can't help it,” John mumbled between kisses, “You're just too beautiful.”  
In one swift movement he lifted her up and carefully laid her down on the bed behind them before he crawled on top of her, his hands working to undo the buttons Clara had managed to close as he kissed his way down.  
“No, you're just a dirty pervert,” Clara exhaled sharply.  
“You've never complained,” and just when he was about to pull down her knickers, Clara stopped his hands.  
“No, no, no, not now,” she said, even though her protest was weak, “I have to go to work. And I have to go in early and pick a new uniform cause I don't fit in my old one anymore.”  
Clara sat up in bed and John let out a sigh as he did the same. Yet he still bent over and pressed a kiss to her lips.  
“Sorry,” he apologized quickly, “Can't blame a man for being crazy about his very-soon-to-be wife.”  
Clara beamed at him. “I know. And tomorrow night is just us, all night long and don't you dare miss a spot when you kiss every inch of my body.”  
“Speaking of tomorrow,” John cleared his throat, “I think your wedding day might be a good opportunity to tell your father?”  
“Do you want to live to put the ring on my finger? Cause if we tell Dad before the ceremony there is a good chance he'll kill you.”  
“And leave his grandchild fatherless? I don't think so.”  
Clara pouted and wrapped her arms around his neck. She looked at him through puppy dog eyes “Please, John, let's tell him some other time. Not tomorrow. We can go over for dinner next week or the week after but not tomorrow.”  
John groaned. “You know I don't stand a chance when you do the eye-thing. Alright,” he sighed in defeat, “We will tell your father next week. But that's it. No more postponing after the wedding.”  
A smile spread across her face and she quickly bent forward to peck him on the lips. “Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

The plan had been to go home and grab a few essentials before Clara was headed to Carlene's place to spend the night there after they had gone out for a small hen party. She wasn't exactly old fashioned but there were two things Clara was insistent upon: she and John had to spend their last night apart and he was not to see her in her wedding dress before the actual ceremony. She wanted to avoid anything that meant bad luck.  
However when she passed the garage she stopped and for a moment Clara thought her heart had stopped beating when she saw the ambulance car parked right in front of it. The engine came to life and the car was slowly starting to drive away. No, it couldn't be. Not again. Not the day before the wedding. Not when she was pregnant.  
Clara broke out into a run, not minding that she was utterly out of breath and she didn't stop until she was standing inside the garage. A wave of relief washed over her when she spotted John standing right next to Raymond and he turned around and noticed her.  
“Clara? Is everything okay?” he asked immediately.  
“Oh my God,” Clara tried to breathe normally, but she was still gasping for air, “I saw the ambulance. I thought something had happened to you.”  
“I'm fine,” John said calmly while he approached her and placed his hands on her shoulders. Clara instantly threw her arms around him, “It's Thomas. Dropped something on his foot, couldn't walk. We thought it was broken and called the ambulance.”  
Clara only sighed and squeezed him a little tighter.  
“I'm fine,” John reassured her, “Really.”  
“I still got scared,” she admitted, “You've made yourself essential to me. I don't know what I'd do without you.”  
Clara could feel his lips gently brush against her hair and she closed her eyes, taking in the feeling of his touch.  
“I told you that I'm not going anywhere, especially not on the day before our wedding,” John's voice suddenly changed, “And now you're gonna go over to Carlene's place and have one hell of a hen party, alright? Didn't you want to go to the dance at the town hall?”  
Clara looked up at him. “What about your stag night now that Thomas is in the hospital?”  
John smiled kindly at her and his hand reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Thomas will be fine. Ray and I will go to the bar for a few drinks and a game of billiards and I'm going to think about you every second.”  
“I'm gonna think about you, too,” she admitted with a smile.  
“Okay then,” he said cheerfully, “Less worrying, more partying, my beautiful soon-to-be wife. I'll see you at the registry office tomorrow.”  
“I'll be the one in the white dress.”  
John laughed before he bent down to kiss her and she thought they must have gotten carried away because a while later Raymond was coughing in the background, making them finally pull apart. Clara threw Raymond a shy glance before she smiled at John.  
“See you tomorrow. And don't make me wait.”  
“Wouldn't dream of it,” John replied before Clara turned around and headed outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwwww, thank you guys for the lovely comments :) I'm so glad you love the story and I hope you'll be happy to know that there are still loads to come. But I do think the story could use a bit of angst, don't you? :D


	24. Chapter 24

Clara was watching the couples on the dance floor and sighed, not hearing a word of what Carlene was telling her. Things like this were just no fun at all without John, who would lift her up and twirl her around the floor. Absent-mindedly she sipped her coke.  
“Do you want to dance?” Carlene suddenly asked out of the blue.  
Clara's head turned around. “Dance with who? You?”  
“Me, anyone. It's your last night of freedom. Anything goes, Clara,” her friend said cheerfully.  
“Can I ask you something?” Clara suddenly said thoughtfully.  
“Uhm, sure.”  
“Do you think I depend on John too much?” she asked, “I've known him for five months and he is the most important person in my life. I don't think anyone has ever been so important to me. Don't you think that's odd?”  
Carlene frowned slightly. “You're carrying his child. You're going to marry him tomorrow. I think it would be odd if he wasn't the most important person in your life.”  
“Yes, but what if I'm wrong about him? What if I build my life around him and he lets me down?”  
Her friend chuckled slightly. “I know what this is – it's called cold feet.”  
“It's not that,” Clara argued but she knew that Carlene was right. Everything was happening so fast and even though she wanted to marry John there was a tiny part of her that was scared.  
“John's going to be a great husband and father,” Carlene reassured her, “You'd be stupid not to marry him. Remember last week when you told me you caught him practising nursery songs on the guitar?”  
Clara chuckled. “He sang, too.”  
“See?” Carlene said, “Don't worry about it. It's natural to be scared but there is no reason to be.”  
“Yeah, you're right,” Clara replied with a smile, “And I think I need a pee break. Again. This doesn't get worse, does it?”  
Her friend smiled sympathetically.  
“Okay,” she grumbled, “Forget I asked.”

Clara made her way to the ladies' restroom and as soon as she stepped inside she heard a strange knocking on the window. Stopping dead in her tracks Clara arched her eyebrows up. The knocking continued. The only thing she could see in the window was her own reflection so she opened it carefully and looked outside into the dark – and John's face.  
“What are you doing here?” she laughed and tried in vain to look stern, “This is the ladies' restroom, mister, you are not allowed in here.”  
John looked down at his feet. “Technically I am outside, soooo. . .”  
Clara leaned on the windowsill, propping her face up in her hands. “And what are you doing _outside_ the ladies' restroom?”  
He climbed onto something to be on eye level with her and smiled right into her face. “I've missed you. Fled my stag night and came to see you,” he explained before he leaned forward and pressed their lips together.  
However his feet must have slipped and Clara could only just hold on to him before he fell backwards. Both of them burst into laughter.  
“You're an idiot, you know that?” Clara chuckled.  
“Yes, but I'm _your_ idiot,” he replied and cupped her face in both of his hands before he kissed her again, this time longingly, his tongue softly brushing over her own.  
Suddenly the door burst open and they were interrupted by Carlene's voice.  
“You are worse than teenagers!” she groaned and started approaching the window. Clara quickly pulled away from John, “No wonder you were taking so long.”  
Then Carlene pointed at John. “As for you, get back to your stag night! This is the wrong party!”  
John gulped but still had a mischievous grin stuck on his lips. “On my way.”  
“See you tomorrow,” Clara smiled at him and before Carlene closed the window she could catch a glimpse of John blowing a kiss in her direction.  
“And you are still doubting that John is the right choice?” Carlene raised her eyebrows.  
Clara shook her head, grinning. “No. Not anymore.” 

 

* * *

 

“My dad is so going to know,” Clara breathed out, staring at her silhouette in the mirror. When she had bought her dress it had covered the baby bump perfectly. But not so much anymore.  
“I'm surprised you haven't told him yet,” Carlene said while she was attempting to fasten the veil in Clara's hair.  
“I wanted to wait until after the wedding but the little one is very keen on making him or herself known,” she crouched down a little so Carlene had a better chance of finally getting the veil to hold.  
“What are you hoping for – boy or girl?”  
“I'd be happy with both but, I don't know, this probably sounds silly. I have this feeling that it's going to be a girl.”  
Carlene laughed. “You should trust your instincts. You know I have two boys and during my second pregnancy my husband was so insistent that it would be a girl but I kept telling him. I said _'Don't get your hopes up. I know it's going to be another lad'_. Will you try for a second child after this one?”  
“Oh God, I have _no_ idea,” Clara admitted, “I still have my doubts I can handle this one. The idea of a second is so far away that I haven't even thought about it. I guess, if this turns out alright and John doesn't mind, yeah, sure. Unless my dad kills him today after he sees the bump.”  
Carlene took a step back and admired her work. “There, you're all set.”  
Clara turned around and looked at herself in the mirror once more as Carlene handed her the bouquet. It felt utterly strange but in a good way and suddenly it seemed as if she had swallowed a hundred butterflies. She would leave this town as Clara Oswin Oswald and return a few hours later as Clara Oswin Smith.  
“You look beautiful,” Carlene said sincerely.  
“Thanks,” she replied sheepishly before she took a deep breath, “Now, let's go.”

Carlene drove the car into the city where she was supposed to meet John and her family and when they arrived her father was already standing in front of the registry office. With a smile he opened the door for his daughter.  
“Your stepmother is already inside. She's not so well on her feet today and-” he stopped once Clara had gotten out of the car and he was able to get a good look at her. Clara was bracing herself for the lecture of a lifetime.  
But instead he only groaned. “I _knew_ it! I knew you were with child!”  
“Sorry,” she apologized meekly, “I know we should have told you.”  
Her father sighed. “I knew there was a reason why you rushed into this wedding.”  
“No,” Clara shook her head, “That's not why we're getting married. We love each other, Dad, we really do. The child is just the reason why we're doing it a little sooner. Don't be mad at John, he's doing his best.”  
Finally her father smiled. “I'm not mad at John. If anything that makes me like him a little more. Any old fool can get married out of love but he is man enough to do the right thing. If he loves you, that's just a bonus.”  
Clara grinned and pressed a kiss to her father's cheek. “Thanks, Dad!”  
“Now, the real question is – where _is_ the groom?”  
“I don't know but he'll be here soon.”

Half an hour later there still wasn't any sign of John and Clara grew increasingly nervous. The wedding was supposed to start in ten minutes and John was late and it was wrecking her mind. Her father tried her best to calm her but he was failing.  
“Clara,” he said calmly, “Are you _sure_ he's going to show up?”  
“If you're suggesting that he's flaking out on me then you can shut the hell up, Dad!” Clara yelled in reply, “John would never do that to me! Never!”  
“I'm sure he'll be here any second,” Carlene tried to reassure her.  
“But what if something happened to him?!” Clara fought back her tears, “You know my track record with men. What if something happened?”  
“Nothing happened to him. Maybe he overslept. Maybe the car didn't start. Clara, calm down, I'm sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for it.”  
“You don't know that!”  
Suddenly Carlene nodded into the direction of the road and Clara shot around and to her relief she spotted their car. She breathed a sigh of relief and ran down the steps of the building to greet him.  
When John stepped out of the car Clara was about to throw herself around him in a hug but he held out his hands. They were black and stained with oil.  
“Don't hug me! The suit may look fine but it's got oil all over.”  
“What the hell happened?! I was worried sick!”  
John leaned forward and pecked her on the lips. “I'm so sorry, darling. The car broke down on the way here. Ray and I could fix it but it took a moment. I'm sorry I scared you.”  
Clara grabbed his face with both her hands and pulled him down for another, longer kiss.  
“You look so beautiful. Do you know that?” he whispered when their lips parted.  
“Stop flattering me and marry me already!”  
“Your wish is my command,” John said, smiling at her. 

The ceremony was traditional and quite sweet though Clara hardly heard a word of what the registrar said. She was too nervous to concentrate on anything but John as he said his vows and she said hers and they exchanged their wedding rings. He kissed her lovingly and Clara had to refrain from pulling him down by the lapels of his jacket in front of their family and friends.  
Seeing as the wedding itself was rather spontaneous all they did afterwards was go for a nice dinner with her father, stepmother and their friends, John whispering into her ear throughout the meal that she looked beautiful and that he loved her and Clara couldn't wait until they were finally alone. 

 

* * *

 

Just when Clara was about to enter their apartment John suddenly lifted her up in his arms, making her yelp in surprise.  
“John, what are you doing?” she asked, laughing now that she was safe in his arms.  
“Carrying my bride over the threshold, obviously,” he said and kissed her before he stepped through the door, “Don't want you to say I didn't do it right.”  
“So far you did everything right,” Clara replied with a huge grin on her face.  
“So far?”  
“Well, we haven't done the wedding night yet,” she winked at him.  
John carefully set her down next to their bed. “It's not exactly night yet.”  
Clara shrugged, tightening her grip around his lapels. “How about we start early?”  
“I have absolutely nothing against that,” John replied and kissed her and together they fell back onto the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all sooooooo much for the sweet, sweet comments :)


	25. Chapter 25

**Early September 1960**

“Bed rest!” Clara yelled, “I can't do bed rest! I can't stay in bed for another 3 weeks. I'll die of boredom!”  
John was having a really hard time calming Clara. As cosy as it had been in the first months of her pregnancy, now it was all becoming a little too much for both of them. A month ago the doctor had told her stop going to work and John had needed a lot of breath to talk her into giving up on work for the time being. She had been bored and moody ever since and now that the doctor had ordered her bed rest John feared it would become so much worse.  
He tried placing his hands on her shoulders to comfort her but Clara just brushed them off.  
“John, I'm serious about this. I can't do this anymore! I'm bored out of my mind, my back is in agony, my feet hurt – all of that from carrying this _thing_ with me.”  
“It's not a _thing_ , darling, it's our _baby_ ,” he told her calmly.  
“Right now it's a thing, an annoying thing and I want it out!”  
“Just three more weeks and-”  
“John, get a pen and paper and write this down: after this – no more children. I'm not doing this ever again! I'm fat, I'm ugly, I'm in pain, I haven't had a good night's sleep in weeks thanks to the soccer player you put in my belly. Not again! No matter how well it turns out!”  
John chuckled. “Football. If I put anything in your belly, then it's going to be a football player.”  
“I don't care what you call it on your sorry little Island, I just want this to be over!” Clara groaned, “Please, make it stop.”  
“Come here,” John said as he sat down on the opposite end of the bed, “Give me your feet.”

Reluctantly and still under growling protest Clara freed her feet of the blanket and John took the first one in his hands and started massaging it.  
“You are not fat, darling. You're having a baby and for that I think you're still too thin. The rest will be gone after you've given birth and you could never ever be ugly to me. I think you are the most gorgeous woman on earth.”  
“What about Mars?” Clara asked, still half grumpy but also half amused.  
“Everyone knows Marsians are beauty queens. You could never compete with that,” John replied jokingly.  
Finally Clara cracked a smile.  
“Can you rub my back, please?” she asked sweetly.  
“Of course, darling, come here,” John said and propped himself up against the wall, inviting Clara to sit between his legs. She took off her shirt and scooted over, her back to him. He unhooked her bra and started to let his hands run carefully over her back, kneading the muscles where he thought she was tense.  
“ _Mhhh_ ,” she hummed, “That feels nice.”  
“I was thinking about going to the city later to get a few more things for the baby. Do you need anything else? A few books to pass the time? Any special cravings?”  
“Books are a good idea. And we could do with another set of sheets for the cradle,” Clara replied, letting her head hang as she was enjoying her massage.  
John smiled and lowered his lips to her neck, trailing it with soft kisses. For a brief moment he wondered if Clara would let him make love to her. The pregnancy usually didn't keep them from it, unless she wasn't feeling well but on some days the mere suggestion could start world war three.  
“Mh, you didn't shave,” Clara murmured.  
“Too scratchy?”  
“No, not at all. I like it.”  
John started to gently suck the sensitive skin at the base of her neck, making his intentions known and causing Clara to utter the tiniest moan and without even wanting to he slid his hands to her front, cupping her breasts carefully cause he knew that on some days she didn't like. Today however she didn't seem to mind at all.  
“John, what are you doing?” Clara asked weakly.  
“Helping you unwind,” he breathed against her skin in reply as one of his hands slipped beneath the waistband of her skirt. He rubbed himself against her bum and was already starting to grow hard. John wanted her so much right now.  
“How can you even find me attractive?” Clara sighed but let his hands and kisses continue.  
Gently he bit down into her shoulder.  
“I always find you attractive, even like this.”  
The moment the words left his mouth John knew he was in trouble. Bad phrasing. Very bad phrasing. Clara immediately struggled free of his embrace, slapping the hand away from her belly and she turned around to face him, looking furious.  
“ _Even like this?_ ” she asked angrily.  
“I'm sorry, darling. That's not what I meant,” John apologized sincerely.  
“Oh? What did you mean then? _'I know you're currently the size of a small elephant but I'm too horny to care'_?” Clara yelled at him. She was deep into her rage again and he doubted it would be so easy to calm her this time.  
“That's _definitely_ not what I meant, Clara. I love you and I don't care if you're the size of a small elephant or a big elephant. You're my wife and you're carrying our child and my feelings for you or my attraction to you isn't even remotely changed by that.”  
Before John had a chance to duck Clara reached for a pillow and hit him across the head. “That's exactly what I meant! Men! You don't care where you put it as long as you can put it somewhere!” she yelled and hit him again.  
“Ow! Clara, please, calm down. You've got this all wrong!”  
“Get out!”  
“ _What?_ ”  
“I said get out,” Clara repeated angrily, “I don't want to see you right now.”  
John took a deep breath. “Clara, please, let's talk about this. And above all, calm down.”  
“I will calm down once I'm alone!”

Knowing that he was defeated John got up from the bed.  
“I'll go to the city. I'll be back in two or three hours, alright?”  
“Just get out,” Clara said weakly.

 

* * *

 

John returned home three hours later, packed with sheets, several sets of nappies, a stuffed puppy, several books and a huge bouquet of flowers, hoping that some of these things would lighten his wife's mood.  
“Darling, I'm home,” he said as he stepped inside their apartment, yet he got no reply. Walking further into the flat he found the living room empty. He quickly checked the kitchen and the bathroom but Clara was nowhere to be found.  
John groaned as he dropped the results of his shopping tour next to the coffee table, thinking that Clara had probably gone to the diner against her doctor's instructions. Just last week he had caught her there chatting with Carlene.  
John grabbed the bouquet and headed back outside but soon walked into the unfriendly and very angry looking landlord.  
“Today isn't Friday,” John said in passing.  
“I know, but you'll pay extra this week because I had to clean up your wife's mess,” he demanded angrily.  
John turned around, the annoyance more than visible on his face. “What mess?”  
“Her water broke right in the hallway. I had to clean it up. I'm telling you, it wasn't pretty-”

John was sure that the landlord was saying something but he had stopped listening after the first part of the sentence. No, it couldn't be. It was still three weeks before she was due.  
“Hang on, what did you just say?” John asked, the panic showing in his voice, “What did you say about Clara?!”  
“Her. Water. Broke,” the man repeated as if speaking to a mentally disabled person, “She went into labour.”  
“Where is she?!” John shouted at him, “Where's Clara? Tell me!”  
The landlord groaned. “The other waitress said she would drive her to the hospital but I'm still not seeing any money-”  
“I have to go!”  
Before the landlord could say anything else John rushed downstairs and back to his car. What the hell had Clara been doing? The baby wasn't due for another three weeks!  
Panic was starting to rise inside him as he started the engine. What if something had gone wrong? What if something was wrong with the baby – or worse – with Clara? He should have been with her. In a hurry he pushed down the pedal and drove off into the direction of the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cough cough* Please don't hit me :D  
> Thank you all sooooo much for the comments and I hope you're not too mad about the cliffhanger :D


	26. Chapter 26

John rushed into the hospital and asked the nearest nurse who told him in an infuriatingly calm voice that Clara would be in the maternity ward and that the doctors there would tell him everything he wanted to know. John didn't even hear her out before he ran through the corridors, accidentally bumping into another nurse and following the signs until he almost crashed into Carlene, too.  
“John, slow down!” she told him strictly.  
“Where's Clara?!” John barked at her, completely out of breath, “Is she alright? And the baby?!”  
The first thing that calmed him was the smile on Carlene's face.  
“They're fine,” she replied sincerely, “They're both fine. The baby is healthy and Clara is in her room, resting.”  
“Oh thank God!” John uttered in relief and for the first time since he had entered the hospital he took a deep breath.  
“Come here,” Carlene said and took him by the upper arm, leading him a couple of a steps until they both came to a stop in front of a large window. Behind it John could see about a dozen babies sleeping in their beds.  
Carlene pointed to a small child at the very right side and John could hardly believe what he saw. The baby was tiny, smaller than the others but utterly beautiful and wrapped in a pink blanket. He was absolutely mesmerized by the sight of her.  
“It's a girl,” he breathed, unable to stop smiling, “A beautiful, little girl. She has Clara's nose, hasn't she?”  
“She really is beautiful,” Carlene confirmed.  
“Can I hold her?”  
She shook her head. “They don't allow it. Germs. You'll have to wait until they're both released but it won't take too long, I think. Everything went smoothly, no complications.”  
“What happened?” John wanted to know, “I left Clara at home to get a few things from the city. She wasn't even due yet.”  
“Clara said she was having contractions and she went downstairs to get help when her water broke. I drove her here,” Carlene shrugged, “She wasn't that early. The baby is small but otherwise healthy – as you can see for yourself. I guess the little one just couldn't wait to see the world.”  
“I want to see Clara,” John demanded suddenly, “I want to talk to her.”  
Carlene nodded with a smile and pointed at a door close by. “She's right over there.”

John only now realized that he was still holding the flowers although they might have lost a petal or two when he had been running around the hospital. He knocked on the hospital room and carefully stepped inside.  
Clara was lying on her bed and smiled when she spotted him.  
“What were you thinking?” John blurted out, “Having the baby without me?!”  
She smiled weakly at him. “Maybe I should have swallowed a watch so she'd be on time.”  
John stepped closer and pulled up a chair to sit right next to the bed. Before he sat down he placed the flowers at the end of the bed and took Clara's hand, pressing a long kiss to the back of it. Clara looked beautiful, exhausted, but beautiful and happy.  
“Have you seen her?” she asked after a moment, smiling at John, “Have you seen our little princess?”  
“Yes,” he beamed at her, “And she is gorgeous.”  
“She's more than that, John. She's perfect.”  
“I know,” he said before he leaned forward, cupping Clara's face in his hands, and kissed her lovingly. John thought he had never loved her as much as in this exact moment. 

“I should have been there for you,” he said sadly when their lips parted, “You shouldn't have been alone. Anything could have happened.”  
“Nothing happened, John,” Clara replied honestly, “And you couldn't have known. It all went so fast. You were gone for 10 minutes when the contractions started and I went outside to get help when the water broke. As soon as I was in the hospital it was all over in less than an hour.”  
John placed another kiss on her forehead.  
“And how are you feeling?”  
Clara nodded. “Tired but happy,” then suddenly something seemed to have crossed her mind, “We haven't even thought about names yet. They asked me when they gave her to me but I had no idea.”  
John frowned, trying to think about something that suited the little angel he had seen a few minutes ago but nothing seemed good enough.  
“I don't know either,” he admitted.  
“What was your mother's name?” Clara asked him.  
His frown only deepened. “Oh, no, you wouldn't be able to pronounce that.”  
“Well, some other Scottish name that sounds pretty? I'd like the idea of her having a traditional name.”  
“Mh, how about Maedhbh?” John suggested.  
“Maeve isn't Scottish,” Clara said, cocking an eyebrow.  
“It is when it's spelled M-a-e-d-h-b-h.”  
“Okay, let's stick to names we can both spell and pronounce,” Clara said.  
“Then it's probably better we don't pick a Scottish name,” John suggested, “Hey, what about Beth?”  
He watched the expression on Clara's face while she considered the name and realized she wasn't displeased with it. “Why Beth?”  
John chuckled. “That was on the name tag of the nurse I crashed into while running to the maternity ward.”  
Clara began to laugh as well. “And as an apology you want to name our daughter after her?”  
He shrugged. “Why not? I think it's a lovely name. We could call her Betty and Beth when we're angry with her.”  
A smile spread on Clara's face as she was thinking about it. “Okay,” she finally said, “Beth it is.”

John got up and reached for the flowers at the end of the bed.  
“I think I should put these in water,” he said and walked towards the little stand holding a few vases.  
“And I should get some rest. I'm assuming little Beth wants to be fed some time soon,” Clara yawned and rolled onto her side.  
After John had filled the vase with water he placed the flowers on the small bedside table and looked at his wife who was almost half asleep.  
“Mind if I lie down next to you?” he asked in a low voice.  
Clara smiled. “Not at all.”  
After Clara had scooted over John got into the small bed next to her and gently wrapped his arm around her, nuzzling his face into her hair. Together they dozed off until the nurses came in and told him off for staying past visiting hours.

 

* * *

 

One week later John was finally able to bring Clara and little Beth home with him and he had spent the time he wasn't busy at the garage or at the hospital readying the apartment. The cradle was standing right next to their bed along with a new changing table that held more stuffed animals, nappies and onesies than the baby could possibly need.  
“I hope you got some sleep the past few nights,” Clara said as she lowered Beth into the cradle, “Because those times are over.”  
“Hey,” John said, the disappointment audible in his voice, “Why did you put her in the cradle?”  
“Cause she's sleeping,” Clara replied as if it was obvious.  
John pouted at her. “But I wanted to hold her.”  
“You held her earlier.”  
“For five minutes,” he complained, “That's not nearly enough.”  
John stepped closer to the cradle, watching Beth sucking her dummy in her sleep. A smile spread over his face again.  
“Have I said that she's gorgeous?”  
Clara stepped up and hugged him from behind, giggling. “Yes, you have. And she'll still be gorgeous in half an hour when she probably wakes up for feeding time. Or less so, depending on how loudly she's making her starvation known.”  
“Can I hold her then?” he asked hopefully.  
“Yes,” Clara replied and John felt her lean her head against his back, “You can hold her then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your sweet and hateful comments :D I decided to take them all as a compliment


	27. Chapter 27

**April 1961**

Clara woke up feeling surprisingly well rested and she stretched and noticed John still sleeping next to her. With a mischievous grin on her face she plucked a feather out of their down-filled pillow and tickled his nose with it. John sniffed but otherwise didn't budge. When she touched the outline of his lips however he finally woke up. He growled at her drowsily.  
“Can you hear that?” she whispered with a happy tone to her voice.  
John opened his eyes, looking at her. “No,” he croaked sleepily, “Hear what?”  
“Exactly,” Clara smiled, “Fourth night in a row that we're not woken by screaming. I think she's finally sleeping through now.”  
John didn't smile however. “Are you sure she's okay? Maybe we should check.”  
He made an attempt to get up but Clara got a hold of him and pulled him back down. “She's fine. She's just sleeping.”  
“Are you sure?” he asked, “I should have a look.”  
“No,” Clara replied in a low but strict voice, “If you stick your head in the cradle she'll wake up for sure. Let's just enjoy it.”  
As soon as John was lying back down Clara crawled on top of him, straddling his lap. She had been so tired the past months that she hadn't even thought about him in that way but now that her sleep cycle was getting longer and longer again she had just been waiting for the right opportunity. And what day would be better than their first wedding anniversary?  
Clara bent down and pressed a long kiss to his lips that John reluctantly yielded to. She started grinding down against his crotch.  
“Clara, what are you doing?” John asked.  
“Isn't it obvious?” she smirked at him and reached down between their legs, “I've missed you.”  
John groaned softly as she began to massage him through his pyjama pants.  
“I've missed you, too,” he admitted weakly, “But Beth-”  
“Is sleeping,” Clara finished his sentence and lowered her lips to his throat, kissing her way up to his earlobe.  
He sighed and gentled pushed her away from him. “I'm sorry. I can't do it with the baby in the same room.”  
Clara frowned at him. “She's 7 months. She will neither know, nor remember.”  
“I know but it's still weird.”

Clara groaned and let herself fall back down in the bed next to him, suddenly not feeling happy about Beth finally sleeping through anymore but instead frustrated.  
“I think it's time we started looking for a bigger place,” John suggested, “Not just because of _this_. A one bedroom apartment is too small for a family of three to live in permanently. The place is crammed and Beth is growing bigger and bigger. She'll need her own room.”  
“I've been thinking,” Clara said, wrapping her arm around his chest, “Since we're moving anyway, how about we move a little further?”  
“How far are you thinking?”  
“You know I don't really like it here, in Texas. It's the people and their narrow minds. And I would love to see where you're from. It doesn't have to be Glasgow, or Scotland even. But I would like to see the UK, or even live there. From what you've told me it sounds really nice.”  
“I think you should most definitely see it,” John replied but hesitated for a moment while he kissed her forehead, “But I also think you should finish college here. You already started your education here, I'm not sure how different the system is but you might have to start again from the beginning in the UK. Maybe, once Beth is big enough to be dropped off at her grandparents we could finally have our honeymoon. We could see the UK, see if you like it there and then make a decision.”  
Clara smiled at him. “That sounds like a great idea.”  
“Besides, I don't think your father would be too happy if we just took off to another continent and took his granddaughter with us.”  
Clara sighed. “We still have to move _somewhere_. And there's no college here in the area. We need to make up our minds about where we want to live, where I can finish my education and we'll both need jobs.”  
“ _I_ need a job,” John told her, “ _You_ need to be a mother and a student. I promised you before our wedding that I would take care of the rest.”  
“But-”  
Clara's sentence was interrupted by Beth who had finally woken up. John got up and lifted the protesting baby out of her cradle, setting her down in his lap.  
“Good morning to you, too, sunshine,” John said with a smile, “Are you hungry or do you want a new nappy?”  
“I'd say both,” Clara replied, “You change the nappy, I'll go warm up the formula.”

When Clara returned from the kitchen she found John lying on his back, holding their daughter in the air over his head. The child giggled at every movement he made.  
“Are you a plane?” John asked, laughing. Beth showed no reaction, “Or are you a spacecraft on your way to the _mooooooooon_?”  
He raised her a little higher and the baby laughed heartily before the “spacecraft” landed softly on the bed next to her father.  
“Do you want her to work for NASA when she's all grown up?” Clara asked as she approached them with a smile on her face, “Cause I think you're secretly working on that.”  
She sat down on the bed next to them and admired her little family for a moment. John was the best father and husband Clara could have asked for and if given a choice she would never change any of the events that had brought her to this point because this was exactly where she wanted to be.  
“I love you,” she said to John, “Both of you. So, so much.”  
“I love you, too,” he replied, smiling, “And I've been thinking that maybe tonight we could ask Carlene to watch Beth for a couple of hours so I can take you out for our anniversary.”  
Clara grinned at him. “Or we could cook and stay inside instead? Just you and me, a good meal. . . and a bed.”  
He laughed. “Yeah, that sounds even better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all sooooooooooo much for your lovely comments :)


	28. Chapter 28

**Christmas 1961**

Just when Clara had set Beth down on the blanket next to the sofa the door bell rang. Since she had sent John to the kitchen to fetch the turkey from the oven Clara went to greet her parents herself.  
“It's snowing!” her father said in amazement as she hugged him tightly.  
Clara laughed. “Yeah, that tends to happen in New York, I've heard. I'm glad to see you!”  
“I'm glad to see you, too. And I couldn't pass up an opportunity to see your new apartment, could I?”  
“We haven't quite settled in yet,” Clara explained as she led him inside, “The place still looks a bit scarce. It's hard to fill three rooms with the furniture that before fit into one.”

They had moved into this apartment on the first of December, though the decision to move to New York hadn't been an easy one. Clara missed Carlene although she had already struck up a sort of friendship with one of their neighbours and Lonny had been so reluctant to let John go and he had needed some time to convince his boss that Raymond would be just as suitable to lead the business as he was. Here in New York John had been able to step up the ladder and gotten a job selling cars and managing part of the office business at a bigger company. He made considerably more money now but sometimes John complained that the work was boring even though Clara was secretly relieved it involved less physical labour. Clara herself wasn't working but she had been accepted into a college close to where they lived and was about to start her classes the next month. Altogether they couldn't complain about anything.

“I like this place,” her father finally said, “It looks like a nice home. Too bad your stepmother couldn't make it, she'd have a lot of decoration advice for you.”  
And suddenly Clara was all the more thankful that her father had come on his own.  
“Where is she?” Clara found herself asking.  
Suddenly her dad's features darkened a little. “At home. She said she needed some time to herself,” he said and a smile replaced the sorrow on his face even though Clara could still see the sadness in his eyes, “Now, where is my granddaughter?”  
“Dad,” Clara began carefully, “What's going on?”  
“Nothing,” he replied a little too quickly, “Nothing that is the right topic for Christmas.”

Suddenly John emerged from the kitchen, grinning proudly.  
“The turkey is done and. . . why are you looking like that?” he asked, suddenly stopping next to them.  
Clara turned her head from John to her father who looked truly uncomfortable and worried.  
“I don't want to trouble you, dear. Not on Christmas,” he said wearily.  
A noise caught their attention and it turned out to be Beth, hitting her rattle against the floor. A smile spread on Clara's father's face as he went to pick up his granddaughter and sat down on the sofa with Beth in his lap.  
“She looks so much like you,” he said with a sad smile, “Those big eyes, that nose. She got that from you. And the curly hair is her father's.”  
“Dad,” Clara said as she took the place next to him, “What's wrong? What is it that you don't want to tell me?”  
He took a deep breath and sighed.  
“I'm going to die, Clara,” he said gravely, avoiding her gaze, “I got the news this week and the doctors say I have a year, two if I'm very lucky.”  
“What?” Clara asked weakly, “Why would they say such a thing?”  
“I have a tumour. Your stepmother, she. . .” he sighed, “She's not taking it well. I hate to do this to her, to you.”  
“Are you sure?” she asked, “Maybe you should see another doctor, one here in New York. Maybe they could still do something.”  
Her father smiled at her. “Don't worry about me, Clara. I think I've already known it, inside, for a while. When it's time I will say hello to your mother from you, I'll tell her what a beautiful granddaughter she has.”  
“Dad,” Clara said but the rest of her sentence never came out. She couldn't even wrap her mind around what her father had just told her and she wiped the tears from her face.  
Then her father turned towards John. “You'll watch over your women, right?”  
“You can count on that,” John reassured him and suddenly Clara felt his hand on her shoulder.  
“Now,” her dad said in a more cheerful tone, “Let's not dwell on that. There is still time and I intend to use that properly. I have a gift for both of you, so stop looking so sad now, Clara. You haven't lost me yet. I'll be around and it's Christmas, so let's just be happy.”  
Clara swallowed the lump in her throat and forced a smile, even though she didn't really feel like it.  
“I'll fetch the turkey,” John announced and retreated into the kitchen.

“How can I be happy when you just told me you are going to die?!” Clara said angrily as soon as John was out of the room.  
“Because that's life and I don't want you to waste yours grieving. You already did enough of that for your mother and Daniel. Look at your husband and your daughter – I want you to enjoy every second with them because you never know how long you can. And that's me, giving you an order, as your father. Alright?”  
Slowly Clara nodded and a moment later John returned with their dinner and they all took their places around the dining table. 

“I said I had a present for you,” her father announced after a while, “And I know you never got around to go on your honeymoon. That's why we have decided that we would like to pay for you both to go on a holiday. Your stepmother and I would be happy to take care of Beth while you're away. We haven't booked anything because we thought you would like to pick the time and destination yourselves.”  
“That is very thoughtful of you. Thank you,” John said sincerely, “And I think we already know the location. Don't we, darling?”  
Finally an honest smile appeared on her face. “Yes. John and I would love to visit London. He's been telling me how lovely the city is.”  
“Great, that's settled then,” her father said and was rudely interrupted by Beth banging her cup against the table part of her high chair and babbling moodily. He turned his attention to his granddaughter. “And you'll be staying with grandpa and grandma. We're gonna spoil you sooooo much.”  
“I think she's tired. It's already past her bedtime,” Clara explained as she rose from her chair, “I'll put her to bed.”

A few hours and a lot of small talk later Clara and John crawled under the blankets on the sofa and she wrapped her arms tightly around him with a sigh.  
“Are you alright?” John asked quietly.  
“No,” she said simply, “It's Christmas and my father just told me that he's going to die. How can I be alright?”  
“I know, darling,” he whispered, holding her in a tight embrace, “But I think he wants you to treat him normally. He doesn't seem like a man who wants everyone to make a fuss about it and I get that. If I knew I was going to die-”  
“You're not,” Clara said strictly.  
“If I knew I was going to die I'd want you to be happy, to live your life normally and he's right, especially now that we have Beth. He doesn't want you to waste your time grieving because he knows that you'd miss out on so much that is beautiful.”  
Clara nodded against his chest. “I think the present is really nice of him. And also a way for him to spend time with Beth because he knows we wouldn't give her up otherwise.”  
John laughed softly. “Yeah, I think you're right. But I still appreciate it. And you're going to love London. We could go after your first semester, when your exams are over.”  
“Yeah, that would be lovely,” she agreed.  
John placed a kiss on the top of her head. “Sleep now. We promised to show your dad around New York tomorrow, remember?”  
Clara sighed and rested her head on his chest and soon found herself drifting off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your sweet and lovely comments :) I truly appreciate every single one


	29. Chapter 29

**June 1962**

Clara took a series of deep breaths as soon as she had solid ground under her feet again and yet she still felt like it was moving underneath her.  
“Are you okay?” John asked as he took her hand luggage from her.  
“No,” she breathed, “Please, tell me we can take a boat on the way back.”  
John laughed. “I'm afraid we can't, darling. But the flight wasn't that bad. There was absolutely no turbulence. It all went fine.”  
“Then we're going to stay here because I am not stepping on a plane again. And if that wasn't bad I don't even want to find out what turbulences feel like!”  
“Darling-”  
“Don't darling me. I have never been so sick in my entire life. The pregnancy was a walk in the park compared to this!”  
“But darling,” John said enthusiastically, “We're in _London_.”  
For the first time Clara looked around. All she could see was the airport but it felt different. A smile spread across her face. If only her knees weren't so wobbly.  
“We're in London,” she repeated happily, “And we will never leave because I refuse to step on a plane ever again.”  
John wrapped his arm around her. “We'll be here two weeks. Trust me, when it's time to leave you'll have forgotten all about the flight. And now we should probably get to our hotel and sleep. It's late.”  
“I'm really not tired,” Clara complained. They probably should have started living by European Time while they were still at home to avoid the jet lag but it had proven to be difficult with a toddler who demanded constant attention.  
“I know,” John replied, “But if we don't go to bed we'll sleep in and miss half of the day. There are so many things I want to show you.”  
Clara sighed happily. “Alright.”

After retrieving their luggage Clara and John took a taxi to their hotel in central London and she was pleased to see that it was right next to the Thames. Despite the darkness Clara had looked out of the window the entire ride and her eyes had grown bigger and bigger at the sight of the city. It seemed to be absolutely marvellous and Clara decided right then that they would be living here one day.  
John carried their luggage upstairs until they both stopped in front of their hotel room door and Clara took the key out of her pocket and opened it.  
“Oh look,” she gasped as she looked out of the window, “You can see Big Ben from h- _uhhhhh!_ ”  
Clara made a noise of surprise as John suddenly picked her up from behind and she fell back onto the bed, landing on top of him.  
“What are you doing?” she asked, laughing.  
“I told you we have to go to bed,” John replied as he turned them around and climbed on top of her.  
“And I told you I wasn't tired,” she smirked at him.  
“Oh, don't worry,” John said in a low voice, “I'll tire you out.”  
A moment later John crashed their lips together in a passionate kiss that almost robbed her of her breath. She smiled against his lips. As much as Clara loved it in their New York apartment and as much as she loved their little family and their life together – this was also quite nice, not having to worry about keeping quiet, not having to make the bed the next morning, not having to think about college essays or dirty dishes or the laundry.  
Clara wrapped her arms around him as he started grinding against her, sending shivers right down to her centre and she parted her legs under him, pushing up against the terribly unsatisfying friction.  
“You're gonna have to do better than that,” she breathed when his lips left hers so John could catch his breath.  
“Oh?” he cocked an eyebrow.  
And in one swift movement he reached behind her back and pulled her up to sit in his lap before he kissed her lips again. John's hands wandered below her shirt, quickly pulling it over her head. The rest of their clothing was soon discarded of and John was back on top of her, pinning her to the sheets. When he moved inside her Clara thought she would never tire of the way he touched her, the way he kissed her. They were simply made for each other and whatever wind had blown him into the small Texan town on the day they had met Clara was so thankful for that and for every second that they had spent together since as she came apart under his touch. John kissed her roughly after he had spent himself inside of her and rolled on his back, pulling her up to lie on his chest. 

 

* * *

 

John was woken by a strange sound coming from the bathroom and he opened his eyes to find the bed next to him empty.  
“You've got to be kidding me!” Clara exclaimed.  
“Is there something wrong, darling?” he called out.  
And then his wife came storming back into the bedroom, holding something between her fingers that he couldn't see.  
“ _I found a grey hair!_ ” she yelled.  
John frowned. “That's it?”  
“I found a grey hair, John! _On my own head!_ ”  
He couldn't help but burst into laughter. “And that's why you're freaking out?”  
“If that isn't a reason to freak out I don't know what is! The bathroom light here is much better. God knows how long I've had that and never noticed!”  
Still laughing he struggled into a sitting position and looked at Clara.  
“Darling, have you taken a good look at me? I have _nothing but_ grey hair on my head. I've never complained about it.”  
“That's different,” Clara spat, “You're older than me and you're a man. Men look good with grey hair. I'm only 31 – that is way too early!”  
She walked up to the bed and let herself fall back down, pouting.  
“Soon I'll be all grey and wrinkled and then you'll go and find yourself a new wife, someone who is young and pretty.”  
John chuckled and wrapped his arms around her from behind. “Yeah, I should probably start looking for her right away,” he said sweetly, “There is no way I'm going to love you with a few wrinkles. That's unacceptable.”  
He bent down and placed a few kisses along the line of her neck.  
“Are you being silly and sweet to make me feel better?” Clara asked grumpily.  
“Absolutely,” he whispered into her ear right before he gently bit down on her lobe.  
“Okay,” she sighed, “Keep going.”  
“Nope,” he replied and suddenly jumped up from the bed, offering Clara his hand, “We're gonna take a bath together, go downstairs and have breakfast and then I will start showing you around London.”  
Finally, at the mention of London, her eyes lit up again and she took his hand and allowed him to drag her back to her feet. 

They hadn't planned anything in particular for their first day so John decided to just show Clara around the city, starting with a walk along the Thames, which she loved, he took her to ride the Tube, which she also loved. They strolled through Hyde Park and eventually ended up in a small café in Greenwich.  
“John,” she said earnestly after she put her coffee mug down, “I want to live here.”  
John giggled. “You have only seen a tiny fragment of London.”  
“I don't care,” she replied, “I love it and I want to live here as soon as I'm done with college. New York is nice but this,” she looked around, apparently lost for words, “The spirit of this city, I just love it and I know Beth will love it when she's bigger.”  
“I love it, too,” John admitted.  
“Why did you leave?” Clara asked him, “What made you leave this amazing city and move to a small town in Texas? I don't get it.”  
He shrugged and if he was completely honest he didn't know either. Everything that had happened before Clara seemed so far away now, so unimportant that it was almost like a dream. He never even thought about it because the only two things that mattered to him now were Clara and Beth.  
John reached across the table and took Clara's hand in his. “Then let's do it. If you're sure, we'll do it. When you've finished college we'll move.”  
Clara smiled at him and it filled John with happiness. She had changed so much since the day they had met. She had grown from a sad, young person working in a diner to a strong woman, wife and mother who was now on the road to fulfilling her dream of becoming a teacher and even though John would never brag about it he knew that he was the one responsible for that. He couldn't be prouder and he didn't think he could love her more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all sooooo much for the comments and I hope you all have a lovely Christmas Day :)


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your Christmas wishes and the comments on the last chapter. I hope you all had a lovely couple of days and. . . I'm sorry. I really am.

**May 1965**

“Shhhhhh,” Clara quietly hushed the crying child sitting on her lap but Beth just wouldn't stop. She hadn't stopped in hours and Clara was at the end of her tether.  
Beth was sick with a nasty ear infection and the doctor she had taken her to the day before hadn't been helpful at all. She never got sick and even bruises and scratches didn't seem to bother her adventurous child for long and Clara was slightly mad that Beth had picked this week to come down with something. Clara hated to see her daughter in such pain but she hated her timing a lot more. Her final exams would take place in a week and Clara desperately needed to study but it was proving to be very difficult to work with a sick child and a husband who was working overtime every single day. She couldn't really hold it against John, he was doing it so she was free to go to college but some days Clara wished that she and Beth saw a little more of him. Besides, he should be starting to think about retirement, not work ten hours a day.  
“I want Daddy!” Beth complained, burying her face in Clara's chest.  
“I know, sweetheart. And he'll be home any minute now,” she tried to comfort her.  
On days like this Clara felt a little jealous of John. She knew she was a good mother and she knew that Beth loved her but _Daddy_ was special to their daughter. It was as if they shared a secret bond that Clara simply couldn't understand and it seemed that the older Beth grew the more she leaned towards John. 

Finally Clara heard a key being inserted into their lock and a few moments later John stepped into their apartment. Picking her daughter up in her arms she walked into the next room to greet him but at the sight of him Clara got suddenly worried. John looked so weary, almost sick and she was overcome by guilt. If it wasn't for her he wouldn't have to work so hard.  
“Daddy!” Beth said in a sudden outburst of enthusiasm, her pain somehow suddenly vanishing, and spread her arms wide so he might pick her up.  
John smiled wearily before he walked up to them and gave Beth a kiss on the forehead and pecked Clara on the lips.  
“Sorry, sweetheart. Daddy can't carry you today,” he said apologetically.  
“Is everything okay? You look terrible,” Clara said, the worry in her voice all too audible.  
“Fine,” he breathed, “Just tired and I think I pulled a muscle at work.”  
“Do you want me to make you something to eat?” she asked.  
“Maybe later. Right now I just want to sleep and _you_ need to study,” he said strictly before he turned towards Beth, “What do you say, sweetheart? Want to take a nice, long nap, too?”  
When Beth nodded Clara set her down and she heard John wince as the girl took his hand and they walked off to the bedroom. He had been stressed and weary for a few days but today John seemed to be in really bad shape so she decided to do something nice for him.  
Clara went into the kitchen and prepared three mugs of nice, hot tea. She sat one down on her desk and carried the other two into the bedroom only to find John and Beth were already asleep, curled up next to each other. At least he had managed to make her sleep, something Clara had been trying to do for hours and now she was free to study for her exams and yet somehow John's state made her uneasy. 

She retreated to her desk and bent back down over her notes but soon found her thoughts drifting off to her husband and child. No matter how hard she tried Clara just couldn't concentrate. At some point Clara simply groaned and let her head hit the table.  
“Study,” a voice behind her said and Clara looked back up to see John leaning against the door frame.  
She took a deep breath and got up from her chair to walk up to him.  
“John, you should see a doctor,” Clara said softly, “You look even worse than before you went to sleep.”  
“I didn't sleep,” he admitted.  
“Why not?!”  
He shrugged it off but Clara somehow got the feeling that he was worse than he actually looked. She had to convince him to see a doctor.  
“A sick husband is the last thing you need right now,” he said simply, “I don't want to trouble you.”  
“It troubles me more that you won't even have a doctor look at you. Please, I'd feel so much easier,” she said and reached out to take his hand but John winced again.  
“I'm fine! Don't worry about me, worry about your finals,” he said strictly but one moment later he suddenly seemed to have lost his balance and stumbled back against the wall. Gasping for breath he started feeling his chest.  
“John?!” Clara asked in panic, grabbing him by his upper arms to hold him steady, “John, talk to me!”  
She had no idea what to do. Something was really wrong with him and now Clara was starting to realize that it might be a lot worse than she had expected. Her hands and knees were beginning to tremble in panic. What was she supposed to do?  
“John?!”  
Finally he looked at her, smiling weakly. “Then again,” he paused, his face now a grimace of pain, “Maybe I'm not so fine after all.”  
“I'm taking you to the hospital,” Clara decided and reached for their phone.

Quickly she dialled the number of her neighbour, telling her that it was an emergency and that she needed her to watch Beth for a while. The five minutes their neighbour needed to walk upstairs seemed like hours before the door bell finally rang.  
“Beth is asleep,” Clara explained in a hurry, “Just tell her that John and I had to go somewhere, don't tell her anything about the hospital. She'll want a sandwich and a tea when she wakes up.”  
Her neighbour nodded and Clara placed her arm around John's waist and together they made their way to the car and quickly drove into the direction of the hospital.  
“Clara,” John said weakly as she turned the car around a corner.  
“Don't talk, we're almost there,” she reminded him strictly.  
“Clara, if I don't make it-”  
“ _Shut up!_ ” Clara suddenly found herself yelling at him in panic, “Just shut up, okay?! You will make it, John! You made me a promise! You promised me you won't die before me and I'm going to hold you to that!”  
Clara sniffed and fought back her tears. She needed to be strong right now. The thought of losing him just couldn't cross her mind.  
“You and I both know we have no influence over that promise,” he said softly.  
“No! I will not allow you to die, do you hear me?!”

Finally she stopped the car in front of the emergency admission entrance and when she honked repeatedly a doctor, followed by a young paramedic, came out.  
“What's the problem, ma'am?” the doctor asked her immediately.  
“It's my husband,” Clara said frantically, “He was really unwell when he came from work and I think he's having chest pains and can't breathe properly. Please, you have to do something!”  
The doctor waved towards the door and out came two more paramedics carrying a stretcher before he turned his attention back to Clara.  
“Has he been feeling dizzy? Or been sick?”  
“Yes, he was dizzy earlier,” Clara confirmed.  
Suddenly Clara felt his hand on her shoulder. She quickly stepped back to avoid the touch that was probably meant to comfort her but right now she didn't want comfort. She just wanted John to be well.  
“Is your husband on any medication that he takes regularly?”  
“No,” Clara shook her head, “Why? What's wrong with him?”  
The doctor took a deep breath and Clara grew even more afraid of what he was going to tell her.  
“What you're describing sounds like your husband is having a heart attack. We will bring him in and examine him immediately.”  
“A heart attack?!” Clara asked in disbelief. No, it couldn't be. John was too young for that and he had been healthy up until a few days ago. It simply couldn't be a heart attack.  
“I'm sorry, ma'am,” he doctor said gravely, “We will do what we can but-”  
He broke off but Clara didn't need to hear any more. She knew what it meant. Quickly she turned away from him and ran towards the medics that were carrying John inside and stopped only when she was next to him. He smiled weakly at her.  
“Listen to me,” Clara told him strictly, “You made me a promise. Don't you dare break that!”  
John reached out for her hand and quickly pulled it up to his mouth to kiss the back of it before the medics hurried him inside.


	31. Chapter 31

Clara didn't know what to do. The wait for news seemed endless and no one seemed to be able to tell her anything. She tried to view this as positively as possible. As long as no one came to talk to her it meant that John was alive and they were doing their best to help him.  
She could not lose John, it was completely out of the question. She had lost her mother and Daniel and most recently she had lost her father. She would not lose John, too.  
When her feet were starting to feel tired from all the pacing she finally sat down but soon realized that it made her even edgier and she stood back up when finally a doctor walked around the corner and came towards her. Clara held her breath.  
“Mrs Smith,” he said, “Your husband is stable for now.”  
Clara breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God,” she uttered, “Can I see him?”  
“He is sleeping right now but you can see him if you like, but I must warn you. He needs absolute rest,” the doctor paused, “He is not out of the woods yet and the next 24 hours are critical. If he makes it I am very positive that he will recover but he will need rest. He was very lucky. It was only a mild heart attack and he seems to be in good health otherwise.”  
“Just take me to him,” Clara said determinedly.  
The doctor nodded. “Alright. Please, follow me.”

As Clara stepped closer she couldn't help but think that John looked peaceful in his sleep even though the lines on his face suddenly seemed deeper and his skin was the colour of ash. She should have noticed it sooner, should have done something. He had been unwell for days and maybe, if she had just sent him here sooner. . .  
She started crying when she sat down next him even though she had sworn she would stay strong. But seeing him like this, so close to death, it could have gone so, so wrong and right now Clara was only thankful that he was still breathing. It didn't matter what came next as long as John lived.  
“Don't you dare leave me,” she whispered and propped her arms up on the bed, resting her head in them.  
“You should be studying,” John replied in a low, weak voice and Clara's head immediately shot back up.  
“I thought you were sleeping.”  
He granted her a smile. “Woke up when you came in.”  
“How are you feeling?”  
“I don't know,” he said and suddenly started grinning, “A bit like I just had a heart attack.”  
Clara frowned and nudged him gently. “This is no time to be joking,” she replied strictly, “You could have died and then where would I be?!”  
“At home, taking care of our beautiful daughter and studying for your finals. Clara, I'll be back on my feet in no time. Don't put your life on hold for me.”  
If he hadn't been sick Clara would have slapped him across the face. She certainly wanted to.  
“You _are_ my life, John,” Clara said angrily but kept her voice low, “I don't care if I'll never get to be a teacher. I don't care if I have to spend the rest of my life working in a diner as long as I have _you_. And Beth. The rest doesn't matter to me but I need you both.”  
She lowered her head, wishing that John would just understand how important he was to her but he never did. In their relationship he always put her first and he assumed that Clara would do the same.  
“I'm nothing without you. I've lost so much in my life, I can't lose you, too. Not ever. You always consider me, always put me first, well, here's what you can do to make me happy: get better, rest, and keep your promise.”  
“Clara-”  
“No, from now on I make the decisions. You will not go back to work. I will get a job, I'll take my finals at a later time once you're better and you will think about nothing but yourself. Do you understand me?!”  
John smiled sadly.  
“I had so many plans for us. I wanted you to have everything you've ever dreamed of.”  
“I have more than I ever thought I'd have, John, don't you see that?! I have the best husband in the entire world when I thought I would never get married and a bright, little daughter when I thought I couldn't even have children. I don't need anything else.”  
John shook his head. “That's not good enough for me. You deserve better.”  
“Why?” Clara asked in despair, “You act like you're desperately trying to make up for something, like you somehow owe me but you don't. You've already given me more than enough and it's time I give something back.”  
“Come here,” John replied with a weak smile.  
“Why?”  
“Just do it.”  
When Clara bent forward John reached out and cupped her face in his hand, pulling her down for a kiss.  
“I love you, Clara Smith,” he paused, “And you were wrong about one thing. I owe you and that's why I'll do my best to get better.”  
“I expect nothing less,” she said teasingly as she sat back down.  
“Remember our third wedding anniversary?” he asked all of a sudden.  
“How could I forget?” Clara giggled, “Worst restaurant ever. I still can't believe the waiter got mad at us for not leaving a bigger tip. I was ready to shout at him.”  
“And rightly so. He ruined your dress and tried to feel you up. He was lucky he didn't get a punch in the face.”  
“He didn't feel me up, he was trying to clean the wine off my skirt – and he failed.”  
“But do you remember the dance I took you to afterwards? And the song?” John asked.  
“The Yiddish one? Of course I remember,” Clara said, “The rest of the night was wonderful.”  
John smiled at her. “That night I thought 'If that woman wasn't my wife I'd marry her on the spot' and I still think the same way. You are the best thing in this entire world and you deserve everything that I'm trying to give you. Don't you worry about me, Clara, I'll get better and we'll have all of it but right now you need to go home and look after our daughter and study for your finals because if you fail I'll be very cross with you. I'm in good hands here and they'll patch me up and when I'm better I'm gonna take you dancing to celebrate you finishing college. Deal?”  
Slowly Clara nodded. “Deal.”

 

* * *

 

Once Clara was gone John breathed a sigh of relief and fell back against the pillows, finally taking off the mask he had put on for his wife. Pretending to be alright had taken more strength that he would have thought and he was exhausted.  
John was cursing himself for what had happened, cursing his old body for being so frail. He so wished to give Clara everything she had ever wanted, including the things she didn't even admit to wanting and now, for the first time in their marriage, he realized that there were limits that he hadn't seen before the heart attack. He had promised her he wouldn't die before her and if it was up to him he would keep that promise and yet he wasn't even sure if he could make it through the night. Something had changed and suddenly John felt a pull that hadn't been there before. John had never been a God fearing man or even spent much time thinking about his end but right now he could swear he heard death calling for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your lovely comments :D And I'm glad no one came to murder me for doing this to you on Christmas.


	32. Chapter 32

John hated the fact that Clara treated him like a disabled person. He had finally been released from the hospital after almost going mad with boredom and now he found that sitting at home wouldn't be much different from the hospital bed because his wife refused to let him do anything at all.  
“Clara, please, the dishes,” he begged her, “Just let me do them. You've got your exams in two days.”  
“No way,” Clara argued, “The doctor said for you to rest and that's what you'll do so don't you dare get up from the couch.”  
John groaned loudly. “The dishes won't kill me. And the doctor also said for me to slowly ease into doing light activities. The dishes are a light activity.”  
“Daddy,” Beth suddenly emerged from her room, clutching a large book in her arms.  
John turned his head towards his daughter. “What is it, sweetheart?”  
“Can you read to me?”  
She stared at him through big, dark eyes so much like those of her mother and John found it hard to resist.  
“There you go,” Clara said, “There's your light activity.”  
“But your finals-”  
“I am well prepared for my finals, John, and I honestly need a little study break. Read to Beth, I'll let you do the dishes tomorrow,” she told him.  
John rolled his eyes. “Yes, boss.”

Once Clara had retreated to the kitchen Beth hopped onto the sofa next to John and handed him her favourite Brother's Grimm fairytale book.  
“You pay close attention to your mummy, Beth,” John said to her, “Learn how to properly boss around any future husband.”  
“I'm not gonna have a husband,” Beth replied in a seriousness that astounded him.  
“Oh?” John cocked his eyebrows, “And why is that?”  
His daughter shrugged. “I just don't want one. I want to do it like people do it in the fairytales.”  
“But they all get married. They find their prince or their princess and they marry them and make beautiful little princes and princesses, like you.”  
“No, Daddy, that's not what they do. They go out to see the world and they defeat the evil wizards and witches.”  
A smile spread on John's face as he bent down to kiss his daughter's hair.  
“Yes,” he replied, “I suppose they do that, too. But no one said you couldn't have both. I'm not saying you have to get married for that, but if you find the right person you could travel the world _with_ them. I imagine it must get lonely if you do it all on your own.”  
Beth suddenly turned her head and frowned at him. “Dad, can you just read the story now?! And do the silly voices.”  
John laughed. “Of course, sweetheart.”

 

* * *

 

After brushing his teeth and slipping into his pyjamas John crawled into bed next to Clara who promptly wrapped her arm around him.  
“I'm so glad you're back home,” she sighed, “I've missed you. The bed felt so empty.”  
“I've missed you, too,” he admitted but instead of being glad to be back John's thoughts again trailed off.  
“I suppose it's gonna be a while before I, well, you know.”  
“That's okay,” Clara replied immediately, “The most important thing is that you get well again. That takes time and I understand it. How are you feeling, by the way?”  
“Good,” he lied, “It's good to be home again.”

John couldn't tell her, especially because he didn't know how to explain it. Apart from feeling utterly frail and useless it seemed as if a tiny part of him had split off, moved on and never made it back. It was as if he already had one foot in the grave and he was being pulled down. Everything seemed wrong. Everything seemed slightly off. He was so glad to be back with Clara and Beth and yet it was as if he didn't belong here anymore at all.  
“You can tell me the truth,” Clara whispered against his chest, “I don't need protecting.”  
John huffed.  
“Please, if there is anything bothering you I should know. Maybe I can help.”  
“It's nothing, I think,” he replied, “It'll probably pass once I'm better.”  
_If I get better_ , he added in his thoughts. A part of him still doubted he would ever make a full recovery.  
“What is it?”  
“I feel a little out of place. I don't know how to explain it.”  
“You could try?” Clara suggested.  
“It's like I want to be here, but a part of me wants to pull me somewhere else. Like I'm in between two rooms and everything I want is in one but something keeps pulling me back in the other. I feel as if I'm still somewhere between life and death and this body just can't decide where it wants to be.”  
“Well,” she paused, “You're still recovering. I think it's natural for you to feel like this after what you've been through. But the doctors were all really positive and they said if you stick to your diet and live healthy and stress-free there's no reason why shouldn't get well again.”  
“I know. That's why I said it'll probably pass,” he chuckled lightly, “Just bear with me here, I just had a heart attack.”  
John could feel Clara's grip around him tighten and she sighed happily.  
“Don't you worry, John. I'll finish college in two days. I'll ace my exams. I'll get a job as a teacher and once you've recovered we can talk about moving to England, if you still want that.”  
“I want it. And we already told Beth now and she's over the moon so we don't have a choice, really, though I guess the destination doesn't matter to her as much as the fact that it involves us moving. I think we're raising a little nomad there.”  
“If it was up to Beth we'd be living on a ship and sailing across the seas and I would be seasick the entire time.”  
John wrapped his arms around Clara and closed his eyes.  
“I don't care where we live, could be an apartment, a house or a houseboat, as long as I have the two of you,” he said.  
“You know, I wouldn't have minded a second child,” Clara said all of a sudden.  
John started to laugh. “You told me, during your pregnancy, that you would never go through that again.”  
“I know I said that but the struggle was so worth it. I can't imagine not having Beth. And we never actively tried to prevent another kid, so I guess it just wasn't meant to be.”  
“Maybe it's not too late yet,” John told her and bent forward to kiss her forehead, “Maybe there's still one more miracle in store for us.”  
“Yeah, maybe,” she said in a low voice, nuzzling against his chest, “You're the best husband and father in the world, John. Sometimes I feel so useless next to you.”  
“What makes you say that, darling? You're a wonderful mother and Beth loves you.”  
“I know that but sometimes I just feel like she'd choose you over anything,” Clara admitted shyly.  
John chuckled. “You're imagining things. Besides, I think it's normal that at some ages girls cling to their fathers more and then later again to their mothers. Don't worry, darling. You're doing just as great as I am.”  
“Thanks,” she whispered before she reached across his chest and turned off the lights, “Good night.”  
“Good night, darling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for your lovely comments :)


	33. Chapter 33

If he spent one more day just sitting around John would surely lose his mind so he decided to use the time Clara was away to do something. Anything. She wouldn't return from her exams for a few more hours and Beth was taking her usual after lunch nap so John went into their bedroom and decided to clean out the wardrobe. Light activities, the doctors had told him and John figured that sorting out old shirts was light enough for now but would keep him occupied for a little while. He really needed to take his mind off his current situation just to get rid of that nagging feeling.  
Despite feeling pretty good earlier John soon found himself exhausted again and he sat down on the bed. Damn this fragile body! Damn this stupid heart! If only there was something he could do about it, to fix it. And then his eyes spotted a box at the bottom of the wardrobe.

John went down on his knees to retrieve it and opened it carefully. Inside it he spotted a few familiar items – Beth's first drawing of the three of them, nothing more than scrawly stick figures and below it the little hospital bracelet they had given her after her birth. There was also the photo album of Clara's childhood, starting with a picture of her as a newborn being held by her mother. John had seen the pictures on a few occasions but he had never realized before that Clara didn't really look anything like her parents. Her mother had been beautiful but in a completely different way. When John had reached the bottom of the box he spotted an item he hadn't really expected to find there, in fact, he had assumed it had gone missing years ago. The only item that still connected him to his past. His father's old pocket watch.  
John took it out of the box and brushed the dust off the engraved shell. It was a rusty, old thing, broken for as long as he could remember and yet it was the only thing that he had cared about enough to keep it as a reminder of his past. But what it was supposed to remind him of John couldn't say. His parents, his first wife, his children – all of them had died in the war so long ago that it didn't even matter to him anymore. He had built himself a new life, married a wonderful woman and together they had the most gorgeous daughter he could ever imagine. The past was the past.  
John pocketed the watch and began sorting through his clothes, throwing away some shirts that were old and ragged and placing some things that still looked decent but he knew he would never wear again on another pile. He could still donate them. The rest John folded neatly before he put them all back in the wardrobe. 

 

* * *

 

“I did it!” Clara announced happily as she stepped inside the apartment, “I am officially done with all my exams, I am done with college and I don't want to jinx it but I am pretty sure I passed them all.”  
When there was no reply Clara got suddenly worried again. Normally John would be waiting for her in the living room but it was deserted.  
“John?” Where are you?”  
Clara found him in the bedroom, sitting on their bed – he didn't make the impression that he had heard her come home.  
“John? Are you okay?” she asked carefully while she stepped closer. Now Clara noticed that he was holding his father's old watch, examining the engravings. Obviously he had been through their wardrobe.  
John's head shot around and a smile appeared on his face.  
“Hey, darling,” he greeted her lovingly, “I didn't hear you come home. How did your exams go?”  
Clara grinned back at him. “Very well. I'm sure I passed them all.”  
“That's wonderful news,” John replied and spread his arms.  
Clara closed the distance between them, slipped onto his lap and John closed his arms around her in a tight hug.  
“I'm so proud of you. I knew you would make it.”  
“Nothing's official yet but I have a pretty good feeling. I'll know in a few days,” she said before she bent down to kiss her husband.  
“And what have you been up to? What are these two piles?” she asked curiously.  
“Oh, I went through the wardrobe, threw out some old clothes,” John explained, apparently trying to sound casual.  
Clara frowned at him. “You were bored, weren't you? You know you're supposed to rest.”  
“Sitting on the sofa all day isn't resting.”  
“I think if you looked it up in a dictionary the explanation would come quite close,” she said and her eyes wandered back to the old pocket watch.  
Clara reached out and picked it up from the bed, turning it around in her palm.  
“You found your dad's watch. It's very pretty,” she noted but as she tried to open it the clasp didn't budge, “It's also broken.”  
She put it back and turned her face towards John.  
“Do you think about your family often?” she found herself asking, “Your parents, your first wife, children?”  
John took a deep breath and finally shook his head. “No, not at all. My parents were of higher birth. They thought I had married beneath me and we fell out before they died. They weren't really good people.”  
Clara raised her eyebrows. “I married into nobility?”  
He chuckled. “Hardly.”  
“What about your first wife? Don't you ever think about her?”  
“Why?” John asked back, “Do you still think about Daniel?”  
The question took Clara by surprise and now she realized that she hadn't been thinking about him in a very long time. Sometimes he still crossed her mind and she thought about him with a sense of nostalgia before the thought was gone from her head again. She never actively revived his memory.  
“See,” John finally said as if reading her mind, “It's like that.”  
“Alright,” Clara said before she pecked him on the lips and got up from his lap, “How about we wake Beth from her nap now before she goes crazy on us tonight and have some tea?”  
“Sounds like a plan,” John replied and rose from the bed as well but when Clara watched him closely she saw his eyes trail back to the pocket watch lying on the duvet and she got the impression that maybe his past wasn't as far behind him as John always told her it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your comments. But why are you all so afraid I will kill off John? Why's no one worried I'm gonna kill off Clara? :D


	34. Chapter 34

Clara was sleeping restlessly that night and she didn't understand why until she stretched out her arm and found the other side of the bed empty. John wasn't there. She sat up in bed immediately and looked around only to spot John in the dim moonlight, sitting in the chair at the end of their bed. His eyes were fixed on her.  
“John,” she breathed a sigh of relief, “What are you doing there? Why aren't you in bed?”  
“I, erm,” he cleared his throat, his voice sounding broken as if she had just torn him out of a daydream, “Couldn't sleep.”  
“Is everything alright?” she asked carefully.  
“Yeah,” he said, “Yeah, I think so. I just can't sleep. Didn't wanna wake you.”  
“Well, I'm up now. Come back to bed.”  
Yet John didn't budge. Clara squinted her eyes and she couldn't be sure in this darkness but somehow she got the impression that he was crying. She had never seen him cry before.  
Finally he rose from his chair and walked towards his side of the bed. He didn't lie down but sat next to her, the tears in his eyes now truly visible as he kept staring at her.  
“Clara,” he whispered, smiling sadly as he raised his hand to caress her cheek.  
She had no idea what had gotten into him. Maybe he just hadn't been sleeping well either, maybe it was another one of his sorrowful moments. They had occurred more often since his heart attack. But somehow Clara got the feeling that this went deeper and it frightened her.  
“John, you're scaring me,” she admitted, “Is everything okay? Why are you crying?”  
He smiled at her and somehow it unsettled her even more. The way he looked at her seemed like a mixture of love and grief and wonderment and sadness at the same time.  
“John, if you're worried about anything just forget about it. My exams are over, you're recovering and Beth is just perfect – there is no reason for you to be afraid.”  
“I'm not afraid, Clara,” he said in a low voice, “I'm just glad that I have you, that you're here with me right now.”  
She began to laugh nervously. “And that's it? You're crying because you're glad that I'm here? I've never seen you cry before!”  
“Clara, listen to me,” he said with a sudden fierceness that hadn't been there before, “Everything is just fine. You were right. I'm recovering, in fact, I _have_ recovered. I'm feeling better and you are going to live your dream. You will be a teacher and we will move to London and Beth, oh God, Beth, she is going to be extraordinary, believe me. And I will keep every promise that I have ever made you.”  
She couldn't help but frown at him.  
“What's gotten into you?”  
“Nothing,” John replied defensively, “Isn't that what you want? Well, I'm telling you now, you'll have everything you ever wanted and I mean it. This time I mean it. All of it.”  
“John-”  
Before Clara could finish her sentence John leaned forward and kissed her. She felt his reluctance at first as if he wasn't sure whether Clara would want to be kissed or whether he wanted to kiss her at all but soon he grew bolder and pushed her backwards onto the bed.  
“John. . . darling,” carefully she pushed herself away from him, “Are you sure you should be doing this?”  
“Nothing,” he said determinedly, “Nothing is going to keep me from making love to you, Clara.”

The heart attack had changed him, Clara had known that before. Everything he did felt different. The way he kissed her, the way he touched her. Everything he did seemed to be filled with a longing and a passion that had been there before but hidden, as if John had been holding back all those years they've been together and when Clara fell back into the pillows hours later, completely exhausted and happy, she decided that it was definitely a change that she liked. 

 

* * *

 

With a broad grin on her face Clara entered their apartment a few days later and she couldn't wait to give John the news. She had indeed passed every single one of her exams. In a few weeks she would receive her degree at the ceremony and then Clara Smith would officially be a teacher.  
Yet when she stepped inside she could hear John talking on the phone and it appeared to be an intense conversation. She couldn't help but overhear what he was saying.  
“I just need this favour. . . You know me, I've helped you out and I will continue to do so. You _need_ my help. All I ask in return is a house, nothing too big. Just enough for a family of three, in London. . . yes, yes, I'll come to work for you but this time I'm gonna need you to pay me. I have a family to support. . . what do you mean I don't – of course I do. I've been married before, you know. . . no, she doesn't. . . She just doesn't okay? . . . Look, I've always taken care of you and your daughter, you owe me this much. . . _oh, yes_ , she will and she is going to be brilliant but that's not the point. The point is that I need your help as much as you'll need mine. Will you do this for me? . . . And one more thing: not a single word to the others when you meet them. This is our secret."  
Suddenly John shot around and noticed Clara standing in the doorway.  
“I have to go,” he said into the phone, “Thank you. Bye.”  
“Who was that?” Clara asked curiously.  
John only shrugged with a light smile. “An old friend. Did you get your results?”  
Clara beamed at him. “Passed them all.”

He jumped up from the chair he'd been sitting in and threw his arms around her in a tight hug, almost squeezing the breath out of her as he did.  
“I knew you would make it, Clara,” he said happily, “Clara Smith – the teacher. There's no other option.”  
“Well, I'm not officially a teacher yet. I need my degree and a job.”  
“Oh, you'll have a job,” John replied enthusiastically, “But not here. Shall we wake Beth? I've got a little surprise for you both.”  
“Yes,” Clara uttered in confusion, “I've heard. A house in London? We can't afford that yet, John, and you know it.”  
“You're right. We can't. But I called in a little favour and we'll get a house. I used to work for a few people in London and I've decided I want that job back. Cars and paperwork – that's just not for me and I can't sit around at home either. I want to go back to being a doctor.”  
As nice as it sounded Clara still wasn't convinced, especially since it had only been weeks since his heart attack and John should be resting, not planning to move to another continent and take on new jobs.  
“Are you sure you're up to that?” Clara asked carefully.  
“Absolutely,” he reassured her, “The job isn't hard. It's a military organisation and they will only call for me in case of emergencies. I'll have more than enough time for you and Beth. Speaking of which, shall we wake her? She is going to be so excited!”  
“And so are you, obviously,” Clara couldn't completely hide her discontent, “Working for the military? That sounds like a lot of stress and travel. And dangerous.”  
“Not at all. I promise. And I'll be fine. You wanted me to think about myself a little more, well, now that you've finished your degree I can and that's what I want. And we wanted to move to London anyway. This is a great opportunity for all three of us. England needs teachers, London has a lot of schools which is also good for Beth because she can start school there and we wouldn't have to drag her across the world after she's already started and I'll be back in my old job. It's perfect!”  
Clara sighed. “I'm just worried that you'll overdo it.”  
John smiled kindly and pressed a light kiss to her cheek. “Don't. Everything is just fine. Please, can we wake Beth now? I can't wait to tell her.”

Waking their daughter from her nap was easy, especially given the circumstances under which she was woken up. Beth was over the moon at the news of soon moving to London and she hugged Clara first and then a moment later John as well.  
“Do we get to fly in a plane?” Beth asked excitedly.  
“Yes,” John confirmed, “We'll have to.”  
Clara groaned and rolled her eyes. “Don't get too excited. Flying is terrible.”  
“I'll love it!” Beth shouted out.  
John smiled, though at his daughter or to himself Clara couldn't tell. “I'm sure you will, sweetheart.”  
“And we'll get to see so many things, won't we, Daddy?”  
“Yes,” he replied and closed his arms around Beth again, “And if you still think London isn't big or adventurous enough I'll take you somewhere that'll take your breath away. When you're old enough.”  
“Where?” Beth inquired.  
“Anywhere,” he replied, “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha. . . it's lovely how I freaked you all out about maybe killing off Clara :D Don't worry. I've written the ending already and it's beautiful. And also thank you all so much for your comments :)


	35. Chapter 35

**18th July 1969**

“That's it, I'm dying my hair,” Clara announced as she stepped inside their house, carrying bags of groceries, “Today one of the kids asked me how many grandchildren I have and I'm not-”  
She stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted John and Beth sitting on a blanket in the living room, surrounded by dolls and in the company of another child. Clara guessed that the girl must be around 4 years old but she had no idea who she was or what she was doing in their house.  
“Oh, hey Clara,” John greeted her happily.  
“We're playing moon landing!” Beth shouted with her usual excitement about anything remotely related to the subject.  
“I can see that,” she replied awkwardly, her eyes wandering to the tin foil spread across the living room floor, “But who's our little guest?”  
“Oh, right,” John said, “This is Kate, my boss' daughter. He had a thing to go to and confused me with a babysitter.”  
Clara giggled. “Well, I can't blame him. You seem to be doing a good job.”  
John rose from the floor and made his way towards her, greeting Clara properly with a kiss.  
“How was work?” he asked.  
Clara growled at him in reply but her features softened quickly. “The usual. Some kids are sweet, some insult me.”  
“Insult you?” John raised his eyebrows.  
She rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Benjamin noticed my grey hairs and asked me how many grandchildren I have. I'm so dying my hair!”  
John began to chuckled and wrapped his arms around her waist.  
“You worry too much, darling. You look great,” he tried to reassure her.  
“That's easy for you to say,” Clara said defensively, “You still look exactly like you did 10 years ago and I'm slowly ageing my way to be wrinkly and grey. It's really not fair.”  
“Clara,” John said lovingly, smiling at her, “I don't care if you have wrinkles or if your hair is grey. You'll never look any different to me.”

“You can't take off your helmet in space,” Beth's voice suddenly interrupted them and they turned around to watch their daughter put the tin foil helmet back onto Kate's doll.  
“Why not?” the other girl asked.  
“Because there's no atmosphere, pudding brain,” Beth sighed loudly, shaking her head.  
“Now, Beth, be nice,” Clara reminded her daughter.  
Beth lowered her head before she turned back to Kate. “Sorry,” she mumbled.  
“Pudding brain. Where did she get that from?”  
“No idea,” John said and leaned closer to whisper into her ear. “She's right though.”  
“That doesn't mean she can be rude,” Clara said and turned into the direction of the kitchen to put away the groceries when John interrupted her again.  
“Hey, I've been thinking. About Sunday,” he said casually.  
“What about it?”  
“Well,” he hesitated, “We've got our own telly now and I thought it might be nicer to stay here and watch the moon landing at home. You know, might be. . . quieter.”  
Something in his voice sounded off so Clara raised her eyebrows. “We made plans about going to the pub ages ago. We even got a babysitter for Beth,” she stopped and when Clara looked at John she realized something, “You want to watch it _with_ Beth, don't you?”  
“She is _really_ exited about it.”  
“She would be. You've been raising her like that from the beginning,” Clara sighed, “Alright, I'll cancel on the others. We'll stay home.”  
“Thank you, darling,” John smiled and pressed a swift kiss to her lips.

“So, how long is this Kate staying with us?” Clara asked after a moment.  
“Uhm,” John hesitated for a long while, “I don't know. He never said.”  
“You didn't ask?”  
“It was all a bit. . . hectic,” he admitted.  
Clara's gaze wandered from John to the little, blonde girl playing with Beth and she shook her head.  
“Your boss isn't really a good father, is he? Just dropping his little girl on you, basically a stranger, not saying when he'll be back.”  
“He's a brilliant man, but I guess you're right. Kate will be fine though. She's got her mother to look after her,” John explained with a knowing smile. 

 

* * *

 

**21st July 1969**

Clara was snuggled up against John on the sofa and opened her eyes to see the telly still running. She tried to stretch her arms but he held her close.  
“What time is it? Has he landed yet?” Clara asked sleepily.  
“It's 3 a.m. And no, but he will soon,” John replied in a low voice, “No need to wake Beth just yet.”  
“Don't you ever sleep,” she turned around and wrapped her arms around his chest.  
John chuckled. “How can you sleep when mankind is about to make history?”  
“I am a wife, a mother and a teacher,” Clara replied, now laughing as well.  
“Good point,” John replied and kissed her hair, “And you're perfect at all of those, by the way.”  
Now that Clara had woken up she somehow didn't feel like going back to sleep and missing out on this moment. Lying there with John was so wonderful and soon they would wake their daughter and watch the moon landing together and everything about it was just perfect.  
Clara sighed. “Don't you ever marvel at how far we've come in the last 10 years? We've been through so much and we made it. I sometimes feel like I'm stuck in a daydream about my perfect life and then I realize it actually _is_ my life. I can't stop thinking about how lucky I am and a part of me just can't believe it.”  
“Why?” John asked her, his voice serious.  
“I have a loving husband, a beautiful, smart daughter, I've got my dream job and we're living in a nice house in a London suburb. Sometimes I wonder how all of that happened and I think the answer is you,” Clara looked up and smiled at him, “ _You_ made it all happen, for me.”  
“In case you haven't noticed. _I_ live in this nice house in a London suburb, too. So, strictly speaking, it's not _just_ for you.”  
“Oh, you know what I mean,” Clara replied and rested her head back on his chest. She closed her eyes, “I love you.”  
“I love you, too.”

John woke her up again when Neil Armstrong was about to step onto the surface of the moon and together they woke Beth as well who sat down between the two of them. Clara admired how glued they both were to the telly but all she could think about was her lovely, little family and how lucky she was to have them both. Even though some part of her still couldn't believe it, deep down Clara knew that this was it, this was her dream finally come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehehe. . . well, we'll see if your theories were right, shall we? ;)  
> Thank you all for your wonderful comments!


	36. Chapter 36

**March 2015**

Clara woke up from her sleep and slowly opened her eyes. She smiled as she looked into John’s familiar, kind face, only now realizing that he was holding her hand. He still looked exactly like he had in the dream she had just had. That wonderful dream of him twirling her around the dance floor, of the two of them being so young and so much in love.  
“I’ve had a dream,” she said, hating how weak her voice sounded. In her dream she had been young and so full of energy, “I dreamed we were young and you took me dancing.”  
John smiled kindly. “That wasn’t a dream. That’s a memory.”  
“And you walked me to my doorstep and kissed me.”  
“Ah, the first New Year’s Eve we spent together. You wore a blue petticoat dress and you forced me to dance until I couldn’t feel my feet. It was wonderful,” John laughed at the memory.  
“How many years has it been?” Clara asked after a while.  
He hesitated for a moment. “55 years,” he replied with a sigh.  
“55 years,” she repeated slowly, “And here you are, still keeping your promise.”

John cleared his throat and reached into the pocket of his jacket, retrieving a thick envelope.  
“The mail arrived while you were sleeping. Beth wrote us. From Norway,” he grinned proudly.  
“Ah, at least she’s in Europe this time. Will you read it to me?”  
Slowly John unfolded the letter, placing the pictures Beth had included aside.  
“Dear Mum and Dad,  
I’m hiking through Norway for a travel report at the moment and today Leonard and I have reached the Arctic Circle. He’s not too useless for an intern but he complains a lot about being cold. At least I’ve got someone to carry the equipment. I'm sending you some of the pictures I’ve taken in the past weeks and I hope you will enjoy them. The old stave churches are magnificent and the landscape is simply breathtaking. The people are really friendly and helpful, too. We’ve already built a little heap of stones here which is supposed to protect us from the trolls as we go farther north. We only have a few hours of daylight and it gets worse the higher we go. Now that I think about it, it probably wasn’t the best idea to go hiking in March.  
But I am well and I’m enjoying it here. I hope everything at home is fine and we can catch up after I return. I’m really looking forward to seeing you both.  
Love,  
Beth.”

Clara smiled to herself after John had finished reading the letter.  
“I’m so proud of her,” she said, “I know I probably could have been a little more supportive of her dreams but I’m glad she's found her way.”  
“Beth knows that,” John reassured her, “She knows you love her and that you only want the best for her.”  
“I thought it was phase. I thought some day she would settle down, have a husband and children, a proper home.”  
“ _We_ are her proper home, Clara. And she’s always been an adventurer. Some people are just born like this and I know that she is very happy out there.”  
“I know that, too.”  
“What about you? Are _you_ happy?” John asked out of the blue.  
“Yes,” she replied sincerely, “Thanks to you. You gave me everything I’ve ever wanted.”  
He smiled sadly and suddenly shifted to lie down in bed next to her. Softly John held her in his arms as if she was breakable Porcelain.  
“You know it, don’t you?” Clara asked carefully, “You know my time is almost up.”  
John replied nothing at all. Instead he bent down and gently kissed her forehead.  
“It’s okay,” she said, “I’m not scared. I’m only worried about you. What will you do when I’m gone?”  
“I have Beth.”  
“I never thought you’d be the one left behind. By pure reason alone it should have been me,” she breathed before she turned her head to face John. “You still look exactly like you have on the day we met. For decades I’ve wondered why you never age.”  
Suddenly John began to chuckle. “I held out on that for you. Ageing – that’s boring. Who needs ageing?”  
Clara started to laugh as well. “You’re being silly.”  
“I promised you, Clara," he said with a sudden seriousness, "I promised you I wouldn’t die before you. You’ve lost enough and I just wanted to show you that not everyone leaves. I wanted to be there for you until the end.”  
She leaned closer against his chest and sighed. “I love you so much. From the day we’ve met you’ve been my everything. Without you I would have died alone, probably still a waitress in that diner. Words can’t express how grateful I am for every second with you.”  
“I love you, too, Clara and all those seconds you just talked about, I will cherish the memory of them for as long as I live.”  
Clara felt tired again as she rested against his chest. Tired, but happy. She closed her eyes.

 

* * *

 

Beth walked next to him as they left the graveyard, trying to dodge more people giving them their condolences. It had been a nice service, sad and beautiful among the closest of friends. Beth had only just returned from Norway the day before, the news of her mother’s death not reaching her immediately as she was hiking in the middle of nowhere. 

“Was it peaceful?” Beth asked in a low voice when they were finally alone.  
He nodded gravely. “She died in her sleep, in my arms. Exactly like she had wanted it.”  
Beth looked up at him. “What will you do now?”  
“I, erm,” he hesitated, “I need some time. I’ll write to you when I’m ready.”  
“Ready for what?” Beth inquired, “What have you planned?”  
“Oh, you’ll see. I still have one more promise to keep. Just give me a little time, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so very much for the sweet comments :)


	37. Chapter 37

**August 2015**

Beth hadn't heard from her father since her mother's funeral, so she was genuinely surprised to find a letter in her mail box that contained nothing but a plane ticket and the message to meet him in the small diner in Parsons, Texas. North America hadn't really been on her schedule but she was curious to see what her father was up to, so she packed a few clothes and got on a plane.  
When Beth arrived at the small diner her father was already waiting for her, dressed in his favourite coat and those ridiculous plaid trousers. Wordlessly she slipped into the seat next to him and ordered a coffee. A few minutes passed before he finally spoke.  
“This is where I met your mother,” he said, “Right here, in this diner.”  
“I know the story, Dad,” Beth replied with a sad smile, “Why did you invite me here?”  
“Your birthday is next month. You're turning 55 and you're still not tired of travelling.”  
Beth chuckled. “I'll never get tired of travelling and if this is going to turn into a speech about settling down and-”  
“No,” he interrupted her, “It's nothing like that. I don't know if you remember but I promised you a trip, didn't I? I promised to take you anywhere.”  
“You never did.”  
“Well, I will now. If you still want to travel with me.”  
“I'd love to,” Beth replied sincerely, “But I have a deadline for an article about Rio de Janeiro and this was really not on my schedule.”  
He turned around and smiled at her. “What if time played no role? What if you could be back yesterday?”  
Her father's comment made Beth laugh. “If that was possible, absolutely. Where would you want to go?”  
“I told you. Anywhere,” he replied, “Anywhere in time and space.”  
The way he said it almost had Beth believe him.  
“Let's go for a walk,” he suggested.

They both left the diner and Beth followed her father to the edge of the town and beyond. She had no idea where he was headed and to her it seemed as if he just walked blindly across the wasteland.  
“Haven't you ever wondered why you're 54 and still look like you're in your late twenties?” he asked after a while.  
Beth shrugged. “I guess I inherited your genes.”  
Her father gave her that look, that look he'd given her countless times that said ' _You don't really believe that, do you?_ '  
“My passport says I was born in 1905. That would make me 110 years old. Do you think I'm 110 years old?”  
Beth didn't reply. She had never actively thought about it, it was more as if by instinct she had always known her parents were different from each other and while her mother had grown old and died her father hadn't change at all.  
“I'm not human, Beth,” he said after a while and somehow it didn't seem at all ridiculous, “And neither are you. Well, not entirely.”  
“What are you then?” she found herself asking.  
Her father took a deep breath. “My name isn't John Smith, that's just what I call myself whenever I pretend to be human. I'm called the Doctor and I am a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey. Time Lords age, Beth, but they do it slowly. And when it's time for us to die we regenerate and wake up with a new face. You only have one heart but I'm pretty sure that after your first regeneration you'll have two as well.”  
Beth stopped dead in her tracks.  
“So, you're telling me that you're _an alien_? And you're telling me _now_?”

Her father stopped as well and turned around to face her. He held his coat open.  
“Feel it. Two hearts. All those years I thought your mother might notice but she never did. Or maybe she did and she didn't want to believe it. I'll never know.”  
Beth frowned at him but reluctantly she raised her hand to his chest. She felt his heart beat on the left side. But also on the right. And nothing about it really surprised her.  
“You're my daughter, Beth. That's why you can't sit still, that's why you travel around the world and it still seems too small. You've got the stars in your blood. And you don't age like normal people do. When it's time for you to die you will regenerate. I am over 2000 years old and there is no reason why you shouldn't live to the same age. And I think a part of you has always known it,” he explained slowly.

Her father turned around and resumed his walk, deeper into the wasteland and Beth followed him on his heels.  
“If you're a 2000 year old, alien being,” she began, “Why did you stay on Earth? Why did you marry my mother?”  
He sighed and shortly after gave a sad, almost devastated laugh. “I had a friend once. Clara Oswald she was called. She saved my life countless times by jumping into my time stream and splitting herself into so many echoes, all of them like her, all of them with only one goal in life: to save me. When she died there was nothing I could do to save her and I couldn't forget so I used this device to turn myself into a human, to forget because I couldn't bear the grief. I had picked this place at random and I walked into this town and I met your mother. She was one of those echoes and I fell in love with her. My human self fell in love. It was bound to happen because she was born to save me and a part of my subconscious remembered her. We were entwined from the beginning. I turned back into a Time Lord after my heart attack and I remembered everything. And I was so glad to have your mother. And you.”  
“Wait,” Beth said, “If my mother was just a copy of this woman, does that mean she wasn't real?”  
“Oh no,” he laughed, “ _She was real_. And she was different. And amazing. And I loved her with all my hearts.”

Finally her father stopped and outstretched his hand. Oddly it seemed to find resistance in the air and he tapped the emptiness a couple of times before a blue police box appeared out of nowhere. Beth instinctively jumped back.  
“Don't worry,” he told her with a smile, “It's the TARDIS. My space time machine.”  
“It appeared out of nowhere!” she argued.  
Her father chuckled. “Wait until you see what's inside.”  
“What is inside?”  
He didn't reply, instead he flicked his fingers and the door sprang open. Carefully Beth peeked inside. It was gigantic. And beautiful. One after another the lights switched on and slowly illuminated the interior.  
“It looks amazing,” she whispered in awe.  
“And?”  
“And what?” Beth asked.  
“Well,” her father looked a bit lost, nodding his head towards the inside, “Any comments on the size?”  
“Not really. I'm assuming there's more than just this room, right?”  
“Yes, but,” he looked utterly disappointed now, “It's bigger on the inside.”  
“I figured it was supposed to be,” she said with a shrug.  
Her father shook his head and stepped into the time machine and Beth thought she heard him mutter ' _That's why I travel with humans. They're easier to impress_ ' under his breath before she followed him inside.

“Why did you never tell Mum?” she asked suddenly, “Why did you never invite her to travel with you?”  
Her father looked at her through sad eyes. “Your Mum wasn't like that. She was born into her time. She didn't even like travelling. Planes and ships made her sick. This,” he looked around, “This wasn't for her.”  
“True,” Beth confirmed, “But you could have told her the truth about yourself.”  
Slowly he shook his head. “Clara wanted a normal life. She wanted a husband and a family and I gave her that. I made her happy. Had I taken her into my world I was afraid she would end up like all the other echoes. I was afraid she would end up dying to save me. Just once I wanted it to be the other way around and I succeeded. Your mother was the one echo I saved.”  
Beth nodded reluctantly, knowing that her father was right. Her mother wouldn't have liked any of this and in the end she had died happy. Her father had done everything to make sure she never wanted for anything.  
“So,” her father said, rousing her from her thoughts, “All of time and all of space. What would you like to see?”  
Beth grinned at him. “Everything.”  
“Everything sounds good,” he replied and pulled down a lever, making the engines of the machine come to life. Beth held on tight to the console unit as the TARDIS was taking her on her first real adventure.

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so, so, SO much for your continuous support! I'm so glad you all loved this story and I genuinely hope you will be happy with the ending. Thank you all for reading it and for your generous number of comments and reviews! Every single one of them made me happy. 
> 
> As you know, I started writing this after Face The Raven and I decided that for this story, the real Clara died when she faced the raven. I also know that probably the Doctor didn't start working for UNIT until the 70s. I did some research but couldn't find out the exact year he met the Brigadier and so I decided to stretch the canon a little and make it the 60s for the sake of this story. As for Kate's age I decided to go with the actress' date of birth (who was born in 1965) so I could put little Kate into my story as well. I also used the theory that said ordinary Gallifreyans only have one heart and Time Lords receive their second heart with their first regeneration.  
> Also, I already started working on my new fanfic, which is called “The Art Of Loving”. It's another AU (this time a real one and not sci-fi in disguise) and the first chapter will be posted simultaneously with this epilogue.


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